Max Martinez
by TheAwesomenessThatIsDumbledore
Summary: The cliche no-wing story, but I tried to shake things up a bit. More of an 'if no School' than 'normal life'. Slight FAX, but may intensify. I don't how the story'll turn out yet.
1. Chapter 1

"MAX!"

I jolted upward, knocking my head on the bottom of my lamp and cursing loudly.

"Yes, Ella?" I called back, groaning and rubbing my forehead. Curse me and my paranoid self.

"That old house just got sold!" She called from where I could now see her in my doorway.

I gritted my teeth. Ella was just... like that sometimes.

"Which house, Ella? You do realize that we live in a pretty decrepit part of town, right? Lots of unsold old houses?" It was true. While we weren't exactly in the slums, we were in the part of town that had lots of old fixer-uppers, the kind of place you could tell used to be full of old mansions that were now kind of past their time.

"That one just down the street from Ariana and Gregory."

Now I got it. Ariana and Gregory were the ADORABLE little kids who lived two doors down. In between them was Ignacious, called Iggy by all, resident pyrotechnic. Greg and Iggy could make things happen with explosives the military hadn't come up with yet. You kind of got used to loud booms coming from their side of the neighborhood.

"What about it?" I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and wincing at the sore spot. With my luck I'd probably have a big bruise. Attractive, I know.

"Mom says she knows their mom from vet school and that they're coming over for lunch today! And it's already 11, and they'll be here at 1, and you need to get ready and look nice for them and not just your normal, ratty old jeans and band T-shirts because Mom says that's not proper for a first impression! So I think it's time!"

Crap. My idea of formal apparel is skinny jeans without holes in them and a slightly more 'proper' T-shirt. However, Ella has this idea that if I wore some kind of fabric scrap she's got stowed away in her closet for the 'time', then I'll look amazing and dazzling and have guys falling over themselves to land a date with me. Problem 1: I despise anything even moderately trendy-looking. I just don't do that sort of thing. Problem 2: I most certainly do NOT want guys, and I quote, 'superbly smitten and incredibly infatuated'. They're all womanizing, sexist male chauvinist pigs who think women are good for one thing, and that most certainly is not their intelligence. I groaned, getting up out of bed and heading toward Ella, hoping I could argue my way out of this.

"Look, Ella, I don't see why this is so important for RIGHT NOW; it's not like I'm going to wear Hollister for the rest of the time they live here, why bother wearing it the first-"

But stubborn-as-a-mule-won't-take-no-for-an-answer Ella was already dragging by the ear (no, really) toward her pink-painted door. I tried to skid to a stop, but sock feet on wood floors don't do much except send me crashing into said door. And howling in pain as my already bruising forehead smashing into it. Ella didn't even flinch, just hurried me through the doorway and shoving me into a chair. She held my wrists to the arm of the chair and looked me in the eyes.

"Max." She said, her voice firm.

"Ella." I imitated. She blinked.

"There is a guy our age that is moving into that house. He is adopted. He is supposedly very shy. That is everything I have picked up from hushed conversations. Do you get the gist of what I'm saying?" Oh no. Oh, so help me God, if she was trying to set us up-

"He WILL, I repeat WILL go out with one of us. And I choose you, because you need a turn. And I plan to set this plan in motion by putting you in The Outfit." Don't ask me how, but I could hear the capitols as she spoke. She was still looking me into the eye, strapping me into the seat with her hands. Oh dear. sweet Jesus. This was BAD. Ella was in her you-will-do-as-I-say-and-do-it-NOW mode. No stopping her then.

"Houston, we have a problem." I announced, meeting her gaze with one of my own.

"And what exactly might that be?" She asked, giving me no leniency.

"I don't want to go out with... um... we'll call him O Nameless One. I don't want to go out with him because I don't know him, and he will probably be a jerk. He lives in a nice house, so he's probably rich, so he'll be a total prat. And thus ends my dazzling display of logic."

Ella glared. "Too bad," she said briskly, and waltzed-no really, that's the only word for what she did-to her closet, shuffling importantly through the clothes, and finally grinning and pulling out-

A vision in lavender.

From the looks of it, it was some kind of purple/black/white blob. It seemed like it had some moderately substantial fabric, so I thanked the gods that it wasn't a sleazy dress. But the 'miniskirt' card was still in play.

Ella gave me this horrid, wicked look over the lump of gauzy lilac, black denim, and white cotton. I gulped.

The next hour was pure torture. I know, I know, that sound really cliched, but I was being poked and prodded and examined and wiped off and redone and caked with slimy goo and clothed in 'trendy' clothes (just the thought makes me shudder), and it was just bad as a whole. Ella had a small apoplectic fit when she saw the bruise, and slathered it in goo. It still looked sort of bluey-blacky-purpley, but less so, like it was half healed. The whole account was just... just, UGH.

Finally, FINALLY, Ella announced that my transformation was complete. Thanking the gods I stepped up to the mirror.

Now, if this was some cheesy book, I would say I was blown away by my appearance and thanked Ella heartily, then met O Nameless One, fell in love, moved to Florida and had 2 beautiful, perfect children named Sarah and Charles. Actually, I just thought I looked like every other 14-year-old girl that had walked the Earth. I felt naked without some kind of band paraphernalia anywhere. I'm not very good with the names and stuff, so bear with me.

I had these kind of charcoal-colored skinny jean things and this white shirt with purple flowers. I had this gauzy lilac vest thingymawhatsit and lavender heels. HEELS. I swear to God, this outfit will be the death of me. Haven't we established already that I can't walk, even wearing just socks?

Anyway, I felt a certain animosity toward this outfit. It was just totally NOT me. And that's saying something, due to the fact that I'm not even positive what 'me' is.

"So," Ella said, rocking back on her heels, "what do you think?"'

I'm guessing she was hoping I would say something like 'Oh, it's perfect!' or 'I love it! DO my outfits and makeup every morning! I can be your shopping buddy!'. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case.

"It's... okay, I guess. I mean... I don't know what I mean. It's just not that spectacular."

Looking crestfallen, Ella pouted at me.

"Well... if that's how you feel, I won't do the headband. Oh, and they're here in ten minutes."


	2. Chapter 2

I looked cautiously around the corner of the doorway. Seeing no signs of Ella, I abruptly sprinted across the hallway and ninja rolled into my room. I didn't calm down, however, until my door was firmly shut and I had my desk chair wedged under the doorknob. When this flurry of movement was over, I collapsed on my bed.

Ella had freed me under the pretense of going to the bathroom; little did she know I had in fact escaped into my room, where I had stocked up on makeup wipes for this very occasion. Score 1 for Max.

I rushed to my small bedroom mirror. You see, this was one of our major differences: Ella a huge, door-sized mirror leaning on the wall in front of her bed. She ADORED looking at herself, though she denied this eternally. I, however, had a small, 1 foot by 1 foot locker mirror attached to my bulletin board. I think that tells you a lot about ourselves as people.

Anyway, I'm scraping the soapy wipe over my face, appalled by the sheer quantity of it (very proud of the smart-sounding...ness of that last phrase) and wincing as it brushes past my forehead (I was not aware it was possible to have a double bruise, but apparently it is), when the doorknob starts jiggling. I'm totally panicked now, even getting some adrenalin, which I thought was sort of weird because I was escaping a makeover, not rabid bears or something. So, I wipe even faster, but the doorknob is still jiggling, and now it's giving a little, and WHAM!

The door exploded open, and a squealing Ella fell on the floor. I just stared at her panting form. After a moment of silence, I said, "You're a determined little bugger, aren't you?"

Ella was quiet for a moment. "Yes." She replied coolly. "And your mascara is smeared. Let me fix it."

I sighed, finally realizing that resistance is futile. "Whatever."

"Hi! I'm Nudge! Well, my real name is actually, like, Monique, but everyone calls me Nudge because that's my nickname but nobody really knows why. Are you Nick? My mom said that you're name is Nick. I like that name, it's like Nick Jonas, but I'm getting off-track now. Sorry! Anyway, you live in that house over there, right? I love that house. It's all pretty and mgphgfrith-"

Greg slapped his hand over Nudge's mouth, smiling apologetically at the guy sitting across from me.

"Sorry. She's... like that. I'm Max." I stuck out my hand.

'Nick' stared at it a moment, then slowly extended his.

"Nick." He said simply, eyes scanning the room and all of us. Greg stepped up next to me.

"I'm Greg. But everyone calls me Gazzy, because-"

"Please, just don't ask," I interrupted. "You DEFINITELY don't want to know."

Gazzy smiled sheepishly.

"And I'm Iggy." said Iggy, looking in the general direction of Nick. Nick had no response.

"Hi, I'm Ella, Max's sister. I think that we'll all be be going to the same school, so if you need any help, look for us." Said Ella, looking disgracefully perky and cheery. Really, someone should switch this girl to decaf. Nudge too, while we're at it.

I looked at Ariana, who had yet to introduce herself.

"My name is Ariana," she said sweetly, smiling angelically and curtseying like a princess. I fought the urge to coo.

Nick said nothing. Behind him, his- young-looking -mom smiled apologetically.

"He's not one for talking," she said, kind of stating the obvious. "He'll open up more when he gets to know you, though."

I hoped so. Nudge looked like she was going to explode.

"Come on into the patio," said my mom like the perfect hostess she was. "It's unseasonably warm, let's take advantage of that and eat outside." She led us outside.

Nick said nothing.

Everyone sat down, eyeing the tacos in the middle of the table, Mom's specialty.

"Oh, yum! Mom, you make the BEST tacos." Ella exclaimed, already reaching for one.

NIck said nothing. I stared at him.

"Are you always like this?" I asked him.

"Like what?" he said, face passive.

"Like hardly saying a word or giving any sign of emotion." He scrutinized me.

"Not necessarily," he said finally. "Just when I'm analyzing my prey."

I looked at him for a moment, surprised that he had any sense of humor.

"Good to know. Now, eat that taco before Nudge does. I can see her plotting."

Conversation continued like that for a while. I would ask NIck a question- "Are you emo or something?" -and he he would give me a brief reply- "No. I just like the color black.". I was starting to get irritated.

"Do you ENJOY killing the conversation?" I asked finally. He looked at me.

"Sort of. It's entertaining to see your steadily rising level of irritation."

I glared at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Alright, NIck, I need to leave for work soon. Are you ready to go?"

Nick's mom was behind him, bracelets jangling as she swung her purse on her shoulder. Nick glanced at me.

"Yeah," he said, pushing his chair in and following his mom out the door.

"Bye, Nick! Bye, Mrs. Falkin!" Nudge, Ariana, and Greg called. Iggy gave a half wave in their general direction.

Nick nodded at us. "See you at school tomorrow, Iggy, Max, and Ella," he said quietly. I smiled.

They left, the door closing behind him. Nudge, Ella, and Ariana bounced of toward the living room, and Greg and Iggy wandered toward the garage.

I stayed by the door, watching the Mrs. Falkin's black Audi drive off and thinking.

I kind of liked this Nick guy.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey!" I said, waving my arms and making a total fool of myself in general. "We're over here!"

Iggy turned sharply toward the sound of my voice. He steeped cautiously in our direction, ears picking up every noise, building himself a map of the high school quad.

"Hey, Max!" I swiveled around and smiled.

"Tess!" I yelled, giving her a hug. Nudge was close behind.

"Oh my gosh!" she said excitedly. "I'm SOO excited! Because it's, like, the first day of school! The first day is SO much fun. It's the best, because, like, there's all these new kids, and new teachers, and all the cool now school supplies and stuff! I hope Nick will come over here. He's fun, even though he is quiet. Oh! Do you think we'll-"

I stared pointedly at Nudge, and she quieted.

"Hey, Iggy!" Tess called, jumping into his arms. His face broke into a smile.

"Hey, Tess! How was your summer?"

Tess was Iggy's girlfriend, and she'd been in Trinidad for the summer as part of an educational program. She was kind of the smart one of the bunch. Anyway, Iggy had really missed her, and they had IMed back and forth for EVER. It was super cute.

I turned from their joyous embrace toward the vaguely familiar black Audi that had just pulled up. I strode over, smiling.

"Hey, Nick!" I said, waving. He got out awkwardly, swinging a black backpack over his black-clad shoulders. Really, something was wrong with this boy.

Nick looked at me passively. "Max."

I grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the rest of the group.

"Tess, Nick. Nick, Tess." I said, gesturing between them. Tess smiled and nodded. Geez, everyone was smiling today. The bell rang in the distance.

"Crap!" Iggy yelled, racing off. We followed, Nick awkwardly tagging along. I turned to him.

"Show me your schedule," I demanded. He looked at me.

"I'll help you find your classes!" I said impatiently, tapping my foot. "Or you'll be late." I added as an afterthought.

Finally, he passed it to me, no sign of emotion whatsoever. I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, I thought were past that!"

He looked at me. "But now we're back to Square One. Sucks, huh?"

I glared. "Just give me the stupid schedule."

I scanned the paper, mentally comparing his and mine.

"We have homeroom, 1st, lunch, and gym together. Follow me."

I started purposefully toward the double doors of the school, Nick trailing after me.

"Are you always like this?" he asked suddenly.

"Like what?" I asked blankly. This was starting to give me a strange sense of deja vu.

"All... sarcastic. And stubborn."

I glared. "You make me sound like I'm PMSing. But yeah, this is pretty normal for me."

He looked at me oddly. "Just take me to math."

"And there you have it. The top five things to never, under any circumstances, order from the cafeteria." Iggy concluded, leaning on Tess. Nick nodded slowly.

"Hot dogs, macaroni, sloppy joes, taco salad, and spaghetti. Got it. I'll keep that in mind." he said sarcastically, sliding his tray onto the table. I stared at him knowingly.

"Exactly, young grasshopper. We have taught you well."

"Yeah, you've taught me to stay away from the giggling clusters and what not to eat from the cafeteria. That's not really that much."

"And how to totally fail at kickball! Oh wait, you already knew," Tess added, scooting her chair up next to Iggy's.

"No way. My team totally won. You're just in denial."

"Nuh-uh! Our team was totally owning your team!" I yelled.

"We definitely won, but if it makes you happy, go ahead and think that."

"Glad to know you care about my happiness. I'm deeply touched."

"As you should be."

Now I was ticked. The girls team had TOTALLY been beating the guys team, but the game got cut short. So now all the guys were positive that they would've won. And Nick was really not helping the situation.

"Really, though. How will you ever survive the next three periods without me giving you my helpful advice?" I said.

"I'll be there in 5th, so then you can have any words of womanly wisdom I throw your way then." Tess added.

"I think Dylan'll be in 7th, though, so there's that problem." Nick replied. I thought for a moment.

"Just throw a pencil at him if he tries to flirt with you. That usually works for me."

"Somehow, I doubt that flirting will be the problem."

"What will the problem be, then? Do tell. We're all dying to know, as you can see."

"You see, he'll be so frantic to hang out with me, since I'm so awesome and all that, he'll be willing to go to desperate measures."

"Please elaborate."

"He'll use force."

"One would imagine so."

"It might harm himself, myself, or the people around us."

"Yes, it's only logical."

"Do you have a sarcastic reply for every occasion?"

"Most of them, but I'm a little lacking in the modesty department. Maybe you could help me out with that?"

"I could teach you, but I'd have to charge."

"Okay, now you're making 'My Milkshake' references. I'm not that advanced yet."

"All in due time, young grasshopper."

"Max! Nick! Stop flirting and start eating!"

We both stared at Ella.

"Flirting?" Nick said doubtfully.

"Really, Ella? Really?" I said in the same tone.

"Oh!" I said suddenly, turning to Nick. "I was going to invite you kneeboarding this weekend, but we got too busy 'flirting'." I said, doing air quotes.

"Kneeboarding?" He replied blankly. My jaw dropped. "You've never kneeboarded!" I yelled disbelievingly. "Now you HAVE to go!"

"What if I'm going back to Utah for the weekend to pick up some more stuff from my old house?"

"I'm not giving you a choice here. You're coming, whether you like it or not."

"I'm really not that enthusiastic about this."

"Who said you had to be? You just have to show up at my house, get in the car, ride to the lake, and kneeboard. Simple."

"I have a sneaking suspicion there's no way out of this."

"Really? What gave it away? The firm words? The assertive tone?"

"Personally, it was something about the posture."

"I see."

"But I guess I'll go."

"You had better, or I will murder you in your sleep."

"I'm not going to take up on that offer. Maybe if I ever become as emo as everyone at your school seems to think I am, but not now. Saturday morning at your house?"

"Yeah. Remember: be there or die."

"Gotcha."


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! Now they get to kneeboard!**

**I just realized that I haven't done a disclaimer yet. So, mentally insert a disclaimer for all the other chapters, okay? For now, I'll just stick with 'I don't own Maximum Ride'. I don't have enough patience to think of something clever.**

"And here, in all of its dazzling grandeur, is the lake." I said to Nick, pulling the cooler out of the trunk. Ella was carrying the kneeboards over to the dock, and Mom was prepping the boat. It was the perfect summer scene.

"'Dazzling grandeur'?" Nick quoted, looking across the browning lawn to the run-down house, rusty shed, and rotting dock. I elbowed him.

"Hey, when you have as many memories here as I do, it's pretty dazzling." I replied, hoisting the cooler onto my shoulder and picking up the waterskis.

"I'll take those," Nick offered, and I passed them to him.

We continued down the steep hill toward the dock. Mom had gotten the boat started, and Ella was sitting on the back, bikini-and-coverup clad. I had on the usual one piece and and oversized T-shirt.

"Iggy and Tess will be here later," Ella called to us. I nodded. "We've given up on trying to get them up before noon." I informed Nick, flip-flops slapping as we made our way up the dock toward aforementioned boat. He nodded slightly, still taking in the lake and the boat. I gestured for him to come over.

"Here," I said, hoisting the cooler into the boat. "Gimme the skis, I'll shove them in the back."

"I've got it," he said, and attempted to get into the boat. 'Attempted' being the key word.

The boat floated away from where he had put his foot, and there were a few seconds of his legs becoming gradually further apart before he finally fell in with a huge splash. I burst out laughing when he surfaced, soaking wet.

"Oh my lord- the look on your face. Oh, you're so ticked. I wish I could get a picture of this right now. This is priceless."

He glared at me. "You knew that would happen. You planned it."

"Hey," I responded, shrugging. "I offered to take the skis."

Speaking of the skis, they had made it across and were now sitting in the lap of a giggling Ella.

"Do we have the tubes?" Mom asked. I nodded.

"I think they're in the shed for when Iggy and Tess get here." I replied.

I sat down next to Ella, and Nick sat down next to me.

"So, we're kneeboarding now?" he asked.

"Yeah. Iggy can't do it because, you, know he's blind and stuff, and Tess sucks so much she vowed to never do it again."

"That bad, huh?"

"She sprained her wrist. I didn't even know it was possible to do that kneeboarding until she did it."

"Should I be concerned for my safety?"

"Unless you're a total klutz like Tess, then probably not."

He nodded.

"Alright, kiddies!" Mom called over the din of the engine. "Let's go!"

The boat pulled out of the dock and we made our way slowly through the little cluster of houses and out into the more open part of the lake, where we sped up.

"Just so you know, the 'No Wake' buoys are anchored to the ground. If you try to hijack them, then you will fall off of the jet ski." I informed Nick. He stared at me.

"Something tells me this is not hypothetical."

"Something is right," I replied, rubbing where I had bruised my arm that day. That had not been one of my better ideas.

"Here you go, Max." Mom called, slowing. It was my favorite place to kneeboard, where the ferry came through once an hour and left huge wake that made for great kneeboarding.

"Yes!" I said, grabbing my navy and white kneeboard. It was a really good one, with padding and everything.

I yanked off the T-shirt and jumped off the back of the boat and into the water. It was unseasonably warm, considering it was late August, and felt REALLY good. Ella tossed me the rope, and and lay on the board on my belly, hooking the handle onto the notch on the front of the board. I gave Mom a thumbs-up to go ahead, and the boat went froth slowly.

As the boat got faster, I put my weight on my legs, leaning back so I wouldn't nosedive. When we were going fast enough that the board seemed pretty solid beneath me, I quickly pulled myself up, tucking my legs underneath me, unhooked the rope and tightened the knee strap across my thighs in one fluent motion. I felt like such a pro. My knees took all the stress of the waves, so it hurt at first, but I got used to it.

"Go backward!" Ella mouthed from where she was perched on the back of the boat. I nodded, and Nick watched me with interest.

I turned the dial to withdraw the fins, then re-gripped the handle underhandedly and twisted around. Now my back was facing them and my hair whipped around my face. I stayed that way for a few moments, grinning in exhilaration, the twisted back around. I shifted my weight toward my left leg and skimmed over the water, going over the crest of the boat's wake and now coasting over the rougher waters. My teeth chattered in my mouth and bit my tongue painfully, but I was determined. I hadn't done this in a while, but I could pull it off.

I glided over toward the wake, finally flicking upward when I got to the crest so that I caught the energy of the wave. I was airborne for a few precious moments, then landed clumsily back inside the wake. Ella cheered, and Nick looked impressed.

I gestured to Mom that I was done, so she slowed down. I slid my legs out from under my and hooked the handle back onto the board, pulling myself toward the boat with the rope.

"Beat that!" I yelled to Nick, and he donned a doubtful expression.

"Somehow, I doubt that I could. Tell me the basics."

"Well," I replied, pushing my soaking hair out of my eyes, "it's pretty simple. When you're going fast enough that the board seems firm under you, pull your knees up, unhook the handle, and tighten the knee strap. Make sure you're leaning backwards, or you'll nosedive, and trust me, that is NOT fun. To turn, just shift your weight, but I wouldn't advise doing anything more complicated than that your first time. When you're done, flick your hand. Mom'll get the message. And... I think that's pretty much it."

Nick digested this.

"Will I just use your board?"

"Nope, it's way too complicated for your wee little brain. Use Ella's. It's right here."

I passed him the bright pink-and-black board, and he looked at me doubtfully.

"Really, Max? Pink?"

"Don't blame me, blame Ella."

He turned to glare at Ella, who smiled apologetically. I laughed.

"Just get in the water, newbie," I said. He eyed the water disdainfully.

"That looks cold." he replied.

"Fine, we'll do it the hard way," I replied exasperatedly, then shoved him into the water.

He surfaced, then glared at me. "You couldn't have pushed me unless you had caught me by surprise." he said matter-of-factly, sputtering.

"Oh, I'm so sure," I said sarcastically, tossing him the rope. "Glad I surprised you then, right, Mr. I'm-so-macho-but-I-can't-stand-cold-water?"

"This is where the conversation ends," he said, gesturing to Mom to start the boat, which she did obediently. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Mature, Max. Really mature." he called to me over the din of the boat.

"Yeah, I know." I yelled back. He rolled his eyes.

Now, the boat was picking up speed. Nick seemed to notice this, and he pulled is legs up, grabbed the handle, and tightened his strap. As an afterthought, he started to lean backward.

"This is gonna be a fail," I muttered under my breath, and Ella nodded.

"Yep," she said cheerily. "But it'll sure be entertaining."

I looked at her appreciatively. "It's times like these when I can accept that you are my sister."

Actually, Nick was doing pretty good. It looked like he was cussing like a sailor in his head, but his face adopted a determined expression. God, I hope he didn't do something stupid.

Now he was adjusting his grip and spinning, getting ready to- and that was the aforementioned stupid thing.

That moron had charmingly neglected to turn the dial, withdrawing the fins, so the board was now bucking, trying to keep form spinning. Nick's hands slipped free of the handhold, and the board skittered across the water for a few moment before finally tipping and dumping Nick unceremoniously into the water.

He popped up after a second looking irritated. I snickered.

"What did I do?" he yelled, frustrated.

"You seem to have neglected to withdraw the fins," I called back. He cursed under his breath.

"Knew I was missing something," he mumbled. Mom double the boat around, and he shoved the board on the back, then came up on the ladder.

"On three, Ella," I called. "One, two, three-"

"FAIL!" we chorused. He glared.

"Shut up."


	5. Chapter 5

"MAX!" Tess yelled, rushing toward me and giving me a hug. I laughed.

"It's been a grand total of 24 hours since I last saw you, Tess."

"Yeah, well, that's too long! Where's Nick?"

"I'm over here," Nick called from the picnic table. Tess went over and started a conversation while I turned to Iggy.

"You're a lucky guy, Igs." I told him. He grinned.

"I am, huh? Well, I'm especially lucky, because my girlfriend is totally awesome at tube wars. Your boyfriend however-"

"NOT my boyfriend!"

"Okay, okay, male friend, geez. Anyway, he's a newbie at this. He has no skill whatsoever."

"He's good at kickball. That has to count for something."

"Aha! So you admit the guys won."

"Yeah. Just don't tell Nick, he'd never let it go."

"You're right about that. However, you did not factor in the fact that I will not let it go, either."

"Oh, shut up."

Iggy grinned in my general direction. I scowled, wishing for the umpteenth time that he could see it.

"Hey, slow pokes! If there was ever a time for a tube war, it would be now!" Ella yelled from the boat. I laughed.

"You're only saying that because you don't have to. Tube wars require months, if not years of training. I'll be another two months or so, if not more." Iggy called. Ella stuck out her tongue without remembering that he couldn't see it.

"Well, as riveting as your conversation seems to be," Mom said lazily, "I think it's about time we piled into the boat."

We all laughed and went to the boat.

"You're going _down_." I taunted Tess and Iggy on the next tube.

"Au contraire," Tess responded. "For it is you that shalt be going down."

"In your melodramatic novels, Shakespeare." I retaliated.

"You guys' trash talk set too high of a standard!" Iggy complained from next to Tess. "How can I ever hope to live up to Shakespeare references?"

"You can't," Nick replied. "You just have to do the best you can."

Suddenly, the tubes jolted forward.

"Oh, its _on _now, Falkin," Iggy called to Nick.

"Give it your best shot, Griffiths," he shot back.

I grinned. "_Now _we're getting into the tube wars spirit!"

Upon hearing this, Tess lunged over to Nick and I's tube, a hand catching on one of the handles with the other hanging in between her and Iggy's and mine and Nick's. I grinned, wanting to torture her in the most dramatic way possible.

"One," I said, prying a finger of a handhold. Her face darkened.

"Now, Max-"

"Two," I continued, and she paled.

"C'mon, Max, don't you think-"

"Three," I said dangerously, and her face got red.

"Please, I'll do a belly flop!"

"Four," I said slowly, and she started to sweat. Nick was cheering me on in the background.

"You can't be that cruel-"

"Sure I can," I said, grinning wickedly and I pried her pointer finger from its death grip on the handhold. Behind me, Nick cackled evilly.

"Nooooo!" Iggy cried, reaching his hand out toward her. He turned to us, a mad glint in his eye. "I shall have my payback!"

With that, he leapt onto our tube, grabbing our ankles. Suddenly, a huge wave bucked us airborne.

I squealed as Iggy yanked on my foot, pulling one hand free. I knew I was a goner when the next wave sprayed in my face, and my fingers loosened.

"It's all up to you now, Nick!" I called dramatically. As I flew threw the air, I cried, "Avenge meeeee!"

I hit the water with a loud splat, watching as Nick rolled onto Iggy's tube. With no weight to hold it down, the other tube went flying through the air. Iggy was wrestling with Nick on the tube (and I have to admit that it was pretty hot) when the airborne tube flew into Iggy's stomach. I burst out laughing as he went flying off the back of the tube, all the air knocked out of him and the most hilarious surprised look on his face.

Acknowledging that there was a winner, the boat slowed and Nick did a victory lap, kneeling on the tube and waving his fist in the air victoriously. The boat slowly rounded over to pick us up, and I climbed up the ladder.

"Oh my lord, Iggy," I said. "You got knocked out by a _tube, _you're such a wimp-"

My taunts, however, were nothing compared to Tess'.

"Oh my god! Here I am, totally at Max's mercy, and you don't do _squat! _Then, my death is in vain, because you get killed by a freaking _inanimate object!_"

At this point, all parties involved were rolling on the floor of the boat gasping for breath except for Iggy, who was sitting red in the face next to Tess, having to endure her rant.

"If this is true love, I don't know if I want any part of it," I stage whispered to Nick.

"Agreed." he replied.

**HA! I loved this one. The entire thing was based on an experience I had with my cousins and brother (I won, of course). **

**Am I great or what, updating so often for my adoring fans? I am amazing**_. _**No wonder you guys worship me.**

**Oh, and I have a question for you: do you want more lake stuff, or should I take them back to school? I didn't know if it was getting too old.**

**Fly on.**


	6. Chapter 6

"MAX!"

"TESS!"

"MAX!"

"TESS!"

"MAX!"

"NUDGE!" Nudge interrupted Tess and I's odd exchange, skipping toward us.

"So, Tess," I said conversationally, "why so peppy?"

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she giddily replied, "Because I made the Jazz Band!"

"Clarinet's can't be jazzy." I scoffed.

"Petunia can." She said forcefully.

"Petunia?" I questioned.

"My clarinet." She replied off-handedly.

"I see," I responded, more than a little weirded out. But that's Tess for you.

"So, Max," Nudge said. I could her jaws tensing in preparation for a long speech. "you guys went to the lake, right? And kneeboarded and stuff. Yeah, so, I was thinking that maybe, like, we could perhaps consider the possibility-"

"I think that it's probably smart for me to go ahead and say no in advance."

"But I was just going to say-"

"No."

"Fine, geez." She replied, huffing. Her face brightened instantly.

"Hey, how did Nick do?" She said. I grinned in memory.

"I'd rather not say."

"Why?"

"He'd murder me."

"He really sucked, huh?"

"He was okay, but cocky. Much too cocky."

Suddenly, a big, fancy car pulled up next to us. I mean, RIGHT next to us. It was sleek and silver, and probably had some elaborate name like a Panther or something.

"Who's that?" Tess whispered forcefully. I stared, vexed.

"I don't know. New kid, maybe?"

"Little late."

"It's happened before."

Nudge was getting fired up for a good, long, refreshing babble, but I stared at her pointedly and she stopped, deflated.

At that exact millisecond, O Person of Mysteriousness entered the scene. With much jangling of the bracelets, a perfectly manicured hand pushed open the door, followed by a slim arm and a Hollister-clad shoulder. I was beginning to worry when the first red curl appeared, increasingly so as it was followed by many more, along with a heart-shaped face with perfect complexion and huge emerald-green eyes.

"Holy crap," Nudge murmured, looking her up and down.

"Got that right." I replied.

"I thought we got rid of her!" Tess said indignantly, and a little too loudly. I shushed her forcefully.

"Who cares if she heard? She _deserves _to hear."

You see, this was, without a doubt, the infamous Lissa Rosalyn Monroe of the Monroe fortune. Her dad, Mark Monroe, was head of a huge multi-national company. Seriously, it was like Walmart on steroids. Anyway, this Lissa kid was a total bee-with-an-itch-on-it's-back to us in middle school. Total slut. Really, she was the Bane of My Existence. I hated her.

At that moment, Nick decided to make his entrance. He swagga-ed over toward us, his face visibly opening. I waved him over.

"See her?" I said when he came over, gesturing madly to the aforementioned slut.

"Uh, yeah," he responded, not getting the point.

"You loathe her now. End of discussion." I said irritably. He looked at me, a ghost of a smile in his eyes.

"Yes, ma'am. Permission to wonder why, Sergeant?"

I hit him.

"Permission denied," I said. He shook his head, eyes still on Lissa.

SOmewhere in the distance, the bell rang. I grabbed his arm, Tess and Nudge following behind, chatting animatedly.

Lissa was close behind. She had obviously noticed Nick, and was blatantly sticking out her chest and putting on the cheesiest, most ridiculous smile on her face. NIck was, luckily for him, not noticing. If he had given any sign that he had noticed her, he would be dead before he hit the ground.

"Come on," I grumbled.

**I know this sucks. It was just a filler, but my great-grandma just died and I've had a lot on my mind lately.**

**I'm sorry for making Tess play the clarinet, I just couldn't resist. It's my life, I had to stick it in the story somewhere.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Alright," Mr. Fabiano said, strolling through the gap between desks. "I'll be picking your groups, boy-girl. No exceptions."

I fought the urge to smile. Nick sat next to me, and Mr. Fab was fairly predictable. We had been partners almost every opportunity; whether it was because he knew of our friendship and liked us, or because of the seating arrangements.

We were one of the few that seemed happy about this. In a corner, Kaitlynn seemed delighted that she was probably going to be paired with Reese. Not everyone favored it, though; many were groaning in protest, trying to convince Mr. Fab to change his mind.

"So, I've got my list. I'll read out-"

"Oops, sorry I'm late!"

Lissa positively burst through the door, panting a little as she handed Mr. Fabiano her excuse note. He took it, mumbling incoherently, and finally looked up.

"Mrs. Kidmore gave you an excuse note because you got lost?" he said, trying to keep the disbelief out of his voice. I quirked an eyebrow; Mrs. Kidmore wasn't exactly know for her leniency.

"Yes," she replied importantly, nose in the air as usual. "She said that she understood, the school being so big and all," Lissa added.

"Okay," he replied uncertainly. "Here, go sit in the empty seat between Nick and Max."

My insides churned. If Mr. Fab followed his usual pattern, then Nick would be paired with Lissa, which simply would not do. But who would I be paired with?

I looked around the room, trying to remember who usually got put into a group of three. Suddenly, I remembered, and I gave a little groan. Across the room, Sam gave me a thumbs-up, grinning.

Samuel D. Bagnal was, for lack of a better word, optimistic. I mean, I didn't really dislike him, we just weren't very coherent. He, however, seemed quite determined that we could be, I thought, as he waved to me.

**DON'T MIND ME, I'M JUST A PAGE BREAK!**

I stared contemptuously down the hall, my eyes boring holes into the door through which a tinny, babbling voice registered.

Lissa. In my house. Who could have ever though it would have come to this?

Mr. Fab had decided that, for some bizarre reason, we needed to get to know each other better. This was okay. Until he announced that that required us writing a detailed essay on the (PERSONAL!) life of our partner. "And I don't mean 'I play baseball and my favorite food is pizza,'" he had said. "real, in-depth details on their life. Write me a biography."

Lissa was, of course, very enthusiastic, nodding earnestly with this ridiculous grin on her face. Nick looked... well, passive. Shocker.

Now, the very first thing Lissa saw fit to do was see his 'home environment'. I don't know what's up with her, but I'm pretty sure she thinks he's quiet since he has an abusive family. I mean, his mom was sorta young and stuff, but it wasn't like she went out clubbing every night and came home and beat him. Ms. Falkin was real nice. And she made AWESOME mac and cheese. Which helped a lot.

In short, I was irritated.

Okay, so now you're all, 'What? But why are they at Max's house?'. We had decided to do it at my house since it was big and roomy, and because my mom made the most amazing chocolate chip cookies. Even Nick refused to leave the house when they're in the vicinity. And with him, that's saying something.

Back to my contemptuous glaring. Lissa's voice was wafting through the air, chattering mindlessly away. She was a total flibbertigibbet. **(AN: It's my favorite word EVER, and it applied to the situation. Def at bottom.)**

Just as that thought crossed my mind, Sam came up the stairs.

"Max!" he said when he reached me, relieved. "I couldn't find you, and I was afraid you weren't here. Let's go to your room."

I squirmed inwardly. Hardly any people had seen the inside of my room, and they had known me well. I mean, I wasn't all secretive about it or anything, but I just didn't go flaunting it around. And I hadn't made any effort to clean.

"Er... right, then," I said awkwardly, leading him to the black door down the hall. MAX was written in white block letters on the door, and some quiet music wafted through it from where I had left my Shuffle in the dock. Comatose by Skillet; I had to suppress the urge to hum along.

I pushed open the door, and Sam followed. He didn't seem to notice al of it at first, but he eventually noticed the severe lack of pink, makeup, and hair thingymadoodles.

My black-and-white covers were wrinkled from this morning, when I'd had to wrestle my way out. The steely blue walls were covered in band posters and pictures, and a light breeze blew in from the open window, sending the black curtains fluttering.

"It's not what I would have expected," said Sam, sitting down in the black-and-whote desk chair. '"I guess I pictured a normal girl room. But, that doesn't matter. I made up twenty questions."

I sat awkwardly on the edge of my bed, trying to smooth the quilt. "Shoot," I said jauntily, trying to portray my disinterest.

"Okay," he said, taking a breath, "what do you regret most in your life, so far?" he asked, looking up at me from over the top of his notebook. I considered.

"It's either giving Iggy the fireworks-making kit or when I blew up at my dad last year."

Oh, crap. It had just slipped out. I was going to stay cool, answer everything sarcastically. But that plan was gone to the wind.

"Your dad?" he said, interested. He poised his pen above the paper, looking up at me expectantly. I was reminded of Rita Skeeter from the Harry Potter movies.

Ah, well. In for a penny, in for a pound. "He left two years ago. He and Mom had a disagreement. They won't tell us what about. Anyway, he came back, and I got ticked off at him for leaving Mom. He left. That's pretty much it," I said off-handedly. He looked mildly disappointed.

"Um, yes," he said nervously. "Next question. What do you feel is your greatest strength?" I blinked.

"Like, physically or emotionally?"

"Emotionally."

"Umm.. I guess I keep my cool in scary situations. I don't really know." He nodded firmly, and scribbled something down. He stopped.

"This is stupid. It's too formal. We shouldn't be forced to get to know someone." He said suddenly. "Let's leave. We can go to the Shake Shack or something, talk over a milkshake. Okay?"

I looked at him, surprised. "Yeah," I said slowly. "It's not far; we can walk."

He grinned. I smiled tentatively back.

**WHAT THE HECK IS WITH THIS CHICK AND PAGE BREAKS?**

"No, seriously." Sam said, smothering his sniggers. "What did Gazzy do?"

"I'm totally serious. He used them as fuses, attached them to my alarm clock that he used as a detonator. Man, was I ticked with him!" I said, smiling and giggling a little.

Sam and I had really hit it off when we weren't in such a stuffy environment. He had commented on how I had good taste in ice cream (You can never go wrong with Peanut Butter Chocolate Swirl!), and we had instantly clicked. Now we were swapping stories like old chaps.

Don't get me wrong, I was still pretty secluded, but he was so open it was sort of... easy to be with him. He wasn't as cool as Fang, or Tess, or Iggy, or even Nudge, but he wasn't bad. I could live through this project.

"Those are your friends? Gazzy, who blew your pants up, Iggy, who helped, and Nudge, who retrieved the pants in the first place?" I nodded.

"She was mad because I wouldn't go to the mall with her. And because, you know, I had sort of put flour in her shampoo to make it stiffen her hair up. It was the dawn of a prank war that's still going on today," I replied.

Suddenly, he glanced at his watch. I have to go," he said regretfully. "But we'll do this again, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "We still need more stuff for the report, right?"

This didn't seem to be the desired response, but Sam nodded. Geez, don't expect me to be all buddy-buddy with you when I've known you for a grand total of three hours.

I turned around and walked home, taking my time and watching the fall foliage. Halloween was soon; I ought to think of a costume soon. Where had those month's gone? I sighed. Probably the same place as my detonated jeans.

When I got home, Nick was sitting at the table, eating a cookie and watching the football game.

"You took your time," he said, eyes still on the TV. I stiffened.

"Sorry. I had a more favorable partner than your bee-with-an-itch."

His jaw twitched. "Lissa's nice," he said after a moment, in which his team scored a goal. "I don't see why you hate her so much."

I huffed and turned away. "Keep going the way you're going, and you'll find out," I mumbled.

Stupid Lissa. Stupid Mr. Fab. And, I never thought I'd say this, but stupid Nick.

**Wooh! Seven chapters up!**

**For Max's room, see the link on my profile.**

**Flibbertigibbet: Someone who is regarded as flighty, scatterbrained, and talkative. Is that not epic?**


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Max!" Tess called, skipping from the library. I whirled around to meet her.

"Yeah, Tess?"

"Have you seen Nick?" I blinked; now that she mentioned it, Nick had been AWOL for the past few days. Ever since the project started, he started drifting away from our group and into Lissa's.

My fists clenched fortuitously; this arrangement was not quite one I was happy with.

"Not recently. Why?"

"I need to ask him something." She smiled at me slyly from behind her braided black hair. She was sort of exotic-loking, with her tanned skin, prominent cheekbones, and brown eyes.

"Somehow, I'm guessing I don't want you to ask him this." I said, already coming up with a thousand things she could ask.

She brushed a stray hair from her forehead. "I just wanted to know why he's blowing us off all of a sudden." I nodded slowly.

"I'll find him for you. I think he's just leaving Social Studies now," I said, already leaving. The last thing I needed was to get Tess all worked up about our recent... I don't even know what you'd call it.

I stuck my head around the corner, scanning the room. Upon seeing no Nick, I moved on to the next door. This one was his Mr. Fabiano's; maybe he was asking him about the project?

I allowed myself an almost imperceptible smile. Maybe he was asking, no, _begging _to switch partners?

I peered through the little glass window on the door. If he was talking to Mr. Fab, I didn't want to just barge in. I glanced vaguely around the room, my gaze locking on a large, misshapen silhouette by the window.

I froze, my mouth dropping open.

Lissa was curled into him, clutching his shirt like it was her lifeline. Nick's head was cocked to the side for maximum kissing capacity, his strong, powerful arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist. They were kissing fervently, like she was the only girl in the world and he was the only one good enough to love her.

I think that last part was from some movie.

Anyway, I was totally appalled, but I couldn't figure out why for the life of me. Seriously, I should've seen this coming.

And there was this really nasty feeling that had taken up seemingly permanent residence in my chest. I didn't have a clue what that was, but under that was one I recognized, had almost grown fond of:

Rip-everything-within-a-five-mile-radius-apart, really-demented-anger-on-steriods. Ah, my old friend.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Strong Max. Sarcastic Max. Who's Nick?

I turned to start purposefully down the hall, but ended up fleeing to the girl's bathroom, last stall to the right, crying my heart out.

Well, okay.

**THE THING YOU ARE READING RIGHT NOW IS A PAGE BREAK**

I collapsed at my desk, closing my eyes and taking deep yoga breaths like in Mom's workout videos. Except this wasn't Yoga Booty Ballet, this was Try and Stop and Impending Emotional Breakdown. The real secret to weight loss, if you ask me.

I had always considered myself a pretty simple girl. I mean, just give me a Snickers and a kneeboard and I'm happy. But now, I was like some super complicated, even more cliche teenage girl. I was hurt, and angry, and shocked, and there was a weird little bit of giddiness that was just sort of there.

Ella slid into the seat next to me, Tess next to her.

"I've been waiting for study hour all day," Ella said, grabbing her science book. "I've got a test on occluded and stationary fronts I'm totally not ready for."

"Ohmigod, that's TODAY?" Tess yelped, frantically reaching for her own science book.

I made a nondescript groaning noise.

Ella pounced on me (not literally, okay? It's just a figure of speech), looking at me firmly. I was reminded of how she had looked when giving me that horrendous makeover five hundred million years ago.

"What's wrong? You sound like somethings wrong. Is it about NIck?I bet it's about Nick, he's been bailing on you lately." She said, staring me down even more powerfully with very word.

"Nthninz rawn," I mumbled, burying my face in my knees.

Tess looked at me quizzically. "Nothing's wrong," I repeated loudly, daring them to disagree. Tess dared, apparently. "Something is totally wrong. Either you're PMSing, or you found Nick, and he was/did saying/doing something rather unsavory for you."

I stared at her, shocked. "How do you know everything that goes on in the universe, ever?" I said, shaking my head slowly.

"Just another benefit of playing the clarinet," she replied smugly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But seriously, what was he doing? Five bucks says it has something to do with Lissa."

I thought hard. If I told them, they'd have some kind of outrageous theory, then come up with some kind of outrageous plan, that would probably end up with me in a dress at one point or another. After a moment's contemplation, I decided it was worth it.

"He was totally snogging her." I said indignantly, using the British word for making out because it sounded so much cooler. "In Mr. Fab's room. Like, full-out, no-hands-barred snogging. And I don't even know why I care."

"Why would you bar your hands to make out?" Tess wondered aloud, but Ella slapped her wrist.

"I know why you care," she said knowingly, patting my troubled little noggin. "You're jealous."

My mouth dropped open. "No way, Ella; in case you haven't noticed, my life isn't the overused plot line of a made-for-TV chick flick."

"Oh, no. I can tell." she said, dead serious. "You're absolutely green with envy. It's obvious, really. Why else would you be so mad?"

"Well," I said, struggling to find a snappy response, "maybe I'm just angry and disappointed with Nick for falling into her trap!" I finished triumphantly.

Tess nodded. "Yeah, I thought he would see what a skank she was. I mean, in _fifth grade _she already had a flock of guys wrapped around her fingers. She's, like, a professional now."

"It runs in the family. I remember my mom used to call her mom 'promiscuous'," Ella remembered, doing air quotes. "I looked it up in the dictionary after she said that. It was my first synonym for 'slut', soon followed by 'skank', 'sleazy', and, most recently, 'wanton'."

"Wanton?" I questioned, desperate to turn the topic from my apparent envy. "That sounds like Chinese food."

"I see what you're doing," Ella said, wagging her finger at me. "You're trying to distract us from your Nick problem."

"This is like a soap opera!" Tess yelped excitedly. "Like, Days of Our Lives or something! DRAMA!"

I rolled my eyes. "It _would _be," I told her, "if I was actually jealous. But I'm not."

She looked at me skeptically, Biology test forgotten. "Uh-huh. SO you just randomly run into the girl's bathroom sobbing."

"How did you know that?" I said disbelievingly.

"Oh, I have my ways," she said mysteriously, grinning. I scowled.

"Okay, maybe I _was _the most minute amount of jealous as is scientifically possible, but I'm already over it. Just...let me be, okay?"

This was obviously not on Ella's, or Tess's, for that matter, agenda.

"No." Tess said bluntly. Ella butted in.

"You have to play the jealous game! Let him find you kissing someone or something!" She said.

I scoffed. "Oh yeah, I'll just randomly pick from the abundance of guys anxious to kiss me. Let me get to that."

Ella smiled mischievously.

"No makeover," I added instinctively. That smirk was really unnerving.

She sighed melodramatically. "Whatever. But next time Dylan flirts with you, please don't throw a pencil at him."

My mouth dropped open. "But he's the perfect target for my graphite-based projectile!"

"I don't care," she said firmly. "You will date him, before Nick starts dating Lissa."

"Dating to the death," Tess chimed in. "I like it."

I turned away, irritated with my crazy friends. "I don't," I mumbled.

**Sorry it took me so long to update! The Jazz Band had a concert tonight, and I've been practicing like crazy. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, Max."

I looked up from my science textbook (whaddya know, I'd forgotten the biology test too) and turned to face him.

"Yeah, Sam?"

"I was wondering..." he began, blushing furiously. "...if we could like, hang out. Or something? Like, not for school?" He finished, staring at his shoes like they held the secret of the meaning of life. I appraised him.

"Like..." I said, feeling an unwanted blush of my own creep onto my cheeks. "...a date?"

I didn't think it was possible, but his blush deepened. "Sort of?" He blurted out.

I paused, thinking hard. This situation was just...too weird for words. And if just him asking me out was this awkward, I didn't even want to think about what the actual _date _would be like.

However, there was Ella's threat to think about. I knew that if I didn't get a date, she'd either set me up with somebody, or, even worse, give me another makeover.

But if I went on a date, a makeover was inevitable. So, it was the lesser of two evils, and I'd much prefer Sam to some male chauvinist pig who thought I was 'hot'.

"Y-yes?" I stammered, unsure. But Sam's huge grin almost made me rethink that.

"Great," he said enthusiastically, sighing in relief. "Um, tomorrow at 6? Go to the Shake Shack?"

I nodded, feeling my blush diminish. Oh, dear God, when Ella hears...

**ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A LINE. IT WAS USED AS A BREAK IN A STORY, TO REPRESENT THE PASSING OF TIME. THE END.**

It was the squeal heard round the world. Honestly, I was pretty sure the neighbors thought Mom was abusing us or something. I didn't even know it was possible to make such a sound.

"Oh. Em. Gee. Your first date!" Insert another eardrum-shattering squeal here. "And I ALWAYS thought you and Sam were perfect for each other. You, like, balance each other out, y'know? And he's seriously cute, too. You need a makeover! Ohmigosh, you are going to look sooooo HOT!"She bounced on her heels, clapping like a little schoolgirl. I rolled my eyes.

"Just get it over with." The second the words left my lips, I was attacked by a big, froofy brush-thing and some pink powdery stuff.

"Here," Ella began, brushing the PPS onto my cheeks with the BFBT. "You need some blush. You're paler than usual." The blush/pink powder tickled. Like, a lot.

Before I could fully register that the BFBT had left my face, I was bombarded by another nameless object. I think I'll call this one stick-of-gloopy-redness.

"And some lipstick. You simply can't go on a date without lipstick." After she had rubbed the the SOGR over my lips, she did an elaborate pantomime to get it across that I had to smack my lips. I complied, not bothering to hide my sniggers. The 'lipstick' was sticky and uncomfortable. I fought the urge to wipe it off.

Out of her pink leather makeup bag, Ella pulled a little black rectangle. When she opened it up, I could see that it had three squares, each with a different color of powdery stuff, and what vaguely resembled a cotton swab. She rubbed the VRCS into the red PS, then onto my eyelid. It tickled even more than the blush.

Next, she got out a shiny black cylinder. I recognized this one.

"No way," I said loudly, eyeing the cylinder like it had some horrible contagious disease. "No mascara. I hate that stuff."

Ella sighed dramatically, replacing the mascara into her bag. "Whatever. I guess that means no eyeliner then, huh?"

I wasn't quite sure what it was, but I had a feeling I wouldn't like it. I shook my head firmly.

Ella let out another exasperated sigh. "On to the clothes, then."

I had a strange sense of deja vu as she shuffled through her closet, this time pulling out a clump of black and white. She didn't stop there, however. Next, she brought out a cherry red leather jacket, something black, and a British flag clutch (Really, Max? Clutch? You wuss). She shoved the jumble of clothes into my hands, ushering me into my room. "Go change!" she demanded, then shut the door in my face.

I collapsed on my bed, suddenly rethinking my decision to agree to Sam's date. After closing my eyes for a moment, I finally got up off my bed and pulled on the clothed.

When I looked up, the first thing I saw was my reflection in the window, and I looked pretty okay. Under the mildly uncomfortable cherry-red leather jacket, I had on a white T-shirt with I LONDON in big black letters, and black skinny jeans. The clutch lay discarded on the bed, but I had put on the black leather bracelet and navy Converse high-tops. Everything fit so perfectly, I had a sneaking suspicion this stuff had been hidden away for this time. Darn you, Ella.

"Are you done?" she called impatiently from outside the door. "I still have to do your hair." With one last parting glance at my reflection in the mirror, I met Ella in the hall.

"Hmm..." she said appraisingly, making me do a twirl. She nodded, seeming to be deciding something. "Curls." she said, then started purposefully into her room, me trailing after.

I plopped down into the chair she gestured to, waiting as she sifted through her numerous hair products. After a moment's decision, she pulled out a curler and her Got 2 B Glued hairspray.

"Ella?" I said fearfully. She turned to me, still deep in thought. "Last time you used that on me, it was so my hair would stand on end for my Halloween costume."

She seemed to come out of a trance. "Hm? Oh, this is for volume."

She crossed to behind me, combing my hair and flicking through her N'Style magazine. She stopped at a page and propped it up to where I couldn't see it. Guess she wanted it to be a surprise.

SHe took the-now heated-curling iron and twisted my hair around it, paused, and let it out. She did this all over my head, a look of deep concentration on her face, and then swiveled the chair so I could see myself in the mirror.

"I look like Farrah Fawcett!" I cried, shaking my hair. I really did; and, take my word for it, an '70s actress is NOT a look you want.

"Oh, I still have to brush it out," she grumbled, and quickly ran a brush through my hair. She was right; I looked much less Charlie's Angels and much more Teen Vogue. I approved. Sort of.

"You look so hot. If I was a guy, I would be, like, falling over myself to land a date with you. I am GOOD." she said proudly, flicking her own brown hair over her shoulder. I smiled at her.

"I suppose I can be seen in public," I told her. Suddenly, Ella's eyes widened. "It's 6!" she cried. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. Ella was practically shaking in excitement; I rolled my eyes, grabbed the purse-thing, and opened the door.

"Hey, Max." Sam greeted. I smiled at him. He smiled a small smile in return.

"Hey, Sam."

"I, um, thought we could walk. It's not that far." I nodded, and stepped outside. When I turned around to tell Ella goodbye, I saw her bouncing up and down and biting her knuckles to keep from squealing. I rolled my eyes and started down the steps. "C'mon," I told Sam.

We walked in silence for a while, in which I tried to figure out if it was companionable, like with Nick, or awkward, like with virtually every other guy I'd ever met (excluding Iggy, of course). Just as I was almost sure it was awkward, Sam cleared his throat and spoke up.

"You look really nice," he told me. I blushed and smiled. "You too," I told him. He was wearing a striped blue polo (Aeropostle, if I had to guess), jeans, and white Vans.

It was sort of chilly, and I was glad Ella had given me the leather jacket. I looked around at the fall foliage, and remembered that I still hadn't thought of a Halloween costume.

"Here we are," Sam said, and I realized that we had made it to Shake Shack. I smiled gratefully at him. "Sorry, I zoned out,"

"What were you thinking about?" he asked as we joined the short line.

"Halloween," I replied.

"What are you going to be?" He asked.

"I haven't decided yet." He nodded, turning toward the glass case that displayed the different ice cream flavors.

"Y'know," I told him, "I think I'll be spontaneous today and get cookie dough." He nodded appreciatively.

"If it's a day of spontaneity, I guess I'll get mint chocolate chip," he said.

I ended up getting cookie dough with rainbow sprinkles, gummy bears, and chocolate chips. "An odd combination," Sam commented, and I nodded. I wasn't used to small talk; it felt weird and unnatural.

Seeming to read my mind, Sam spoke up. "This is too awkward," he said. "Let's just drop the 'date' pretense and chill out, like normal." I nodded. Everybody was nodding today, it seemed.

I tried to talk to him like I used to, but something was...off. I think he noticed it too, because he kept sighing and fidgeting in his seat. Finally, when we'd both finished our cones, he got up.

"I guess we should go," Sam said awkwardly.

"Yeah," I said, and chuckled nervously. "I told my mom I'd be home soon." A complete lie. Mom was in Virginia at a veterinarian expo.

We walked home, me shivering in my now flimsy-seeming leather jacket. Sam offered me his coat, but I turned him down. He seemed disappointed.

After about five minutes of nondescript walking, we made it to my house. I walked up to the door and Sam followed me; I turned to face him, unsure of what to say.

"Um...I had a good time." I told him lamely. He shook his head.

"No, you didn't," he said regretfully. "We were both a little off today. But, I don't really care. I like you a lot, and I don't want one awkward date to keep us apart. So...can we try this again sometime?"

I blinked. That was, no question, the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"Thanks," I told him shyly, and he lifted my chin with two of his fingers.

"It's true," he murmured, and kissed me.

Somehow, I had expected my first kiss to be, like, legendary; the whole, light-up-your-world, cliche teen magazine stuff. But this was just physical contact. And somewhere, really deep in the hazy parts in my mind, I wished that it was NIck.

Which totally ruined the moment and weirded me out.

I broke off, and his eyes gave it away; it was too soon, he's disappointed, what do I say now?

"G'night," I muttered finally, turning and putting my hand on the doorknob. He touched my shoulder. "Yeah," he said, trying valiantly to hide his disappointment. HE was such a good guy; why couldn't I like him? "'G'night."

**I think that was my longest chapter. I'm proud of myself.**

**And if you're reading this, that means that you like this story enough to get past the first eight chapters. So, why not express that to me in a REVIEW?**

**Ha. Got you there.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, TMI, I somehow picked up on your oh-so-subtle suggestion and decided to list my reviewers. Since I haven't done this before, I'm doing everyone that reviewed since I started the story. So, here I go:**

**Yreva13**

**TMI (of course...your reviews keep me mildly entertained for the 5 seconds it takes to read, and understand, them)**

**deathtobieber**

**Ally**

**fanglover18**

**Jace'n'FangLover**

**BOOKNERD101**

**water wolf 100**

**ReErEe2015**

**PANTHER-PRIDE**

**FallenSnowAngels5297**

**Chocogirl24**

**conti siegel**

**You guys are good for my ego. 3 And I checked out most of you guys' profiles, and a lot of you are REALLY good!**

The second the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and headed for the library. I had messed up the biology test so bad, Mr. Righton was letting me retake it, which was unlike him. But when your 88+ student gets a 54, you're gonna do what you can to get your class average up. And hey, I wasn't complaining.

"Scuse me, man on a mission here..." I mumbled, weaving my way through the throngs of people yammering away about there plans for the upcoming three-day weekend (gotta love those teacher workdays), straining against the current; most people used study hour to go out on the quad and mess around. I was usually part of that vast majority, but like I said, retest.

Finally, after one squashed foot and a bruised arm (seriously, dude, running through the halls with a computer cart is NOT a good idea and will injure everyone in the vicinity), I made it to the safe haven of the library. The librarian, Mr. Lazzara (though he let me call him Michael 'cuz he's cool like that), gave me a quick half-wave before turning back to the kid who apparently was helpless when it came to locating a book and required assistance. Whoa, run-on sentence there.

I sat in my usual chair, next to the mural of the Riverview Raiders and under the biggest window. It was a much sought-after seat, but one black eye given to a certain freshman cleared that right up. Who knew?

Anyway, I pulled out my biology book and crammed like I'd never crammed before. I don't think I actually got a sentence of it it; my thoughts were more along the lines of _Oh crap, gotta study, gotta study... _than they were _Ribosomes are found inside the walls of one's prokaryote. _Cram, Max, CRAM!

"Umm...Max?"

I hesitated to look up and stifled a groan. I knew It wasn't Sam awkwardly standing by my desk this time, instead it was someone...I didn't really know how to describe.

"Yeah, Nick?" I replied, straining for an off-handed tone. It came out much more strangled than it had in my head. Of course, my head was still kind of caught up in the difference between a eukaryote and a prokaryote.

I looked up at him through my hair, and his eyes flashed with relief. His deep, obsidian...oh never mind.

Only I could be mildly furious with someone who had totally ditched me for _Lissa Monroe_ of all people, and then proceed to make an smitten comment about their eyes. Okay, maybe Ella could do that too. But whatever.

"We haven't been talking for a while, and I wanted to know what was wrong."

My mouth dropped open, and I quickly snapped it shut. IDIOT! Idiot, idiot, idiot! How do you get so stupid?

"Well..." I began hesitantly, "I guess I was kind of uncomfortable, you being with my mortal enemy and all. Plus, you've been sort of blowing us off."

"I mean, we have to work on our project!" he defended. And I need to work on my test, but here I am talking to you.

"All the time?" I hissed, already feeling raw rage bubbling in my stomach.

"We want to get a good grade." He replied, his eyes flashing; but this time, not with relief.

"Oh, so you expected extra credit for a detailed map of each other's mouths?" I half shrieked.

"Wait, _what?" _he said, all defenses down. He really was confused.

"You and Lissa," I replied, my awkward meter going off like nuts. "In Mr. Fab's room. It appeared to be a very intense game of tonsil hockey."

"Wha-" he began, then trailed off, his face turning pink. "Oh, _that." _he mumbled quietly.

"Yeah, _that._" I replied truthfully. "I've seen her go through three boyfriends a month, and I'm not too keen on you becoming one."

He nodded slowly. "I guess I get that," he said finally. With an edge in his voice he added, "seeing you with Sam was pretty unsettling."

"Why?" I said curiously. He was such a nice guy.

"He's, like, a total male chauvinist. Didn't you know that?" He said, with genuine surprise.

"Um, no." I replied, a chill going down my spine. I trusted Nick WAY more than I trusted Sam, even with the recent crap we've been through.

"Well, he is." he replied simply, wordlessly signifying that he was done with the topic. "But...are we cool?"

I held out my hand for him to shake. "Yeah. You are expected to sit at the usual table at lunch. No buts."

Nick flashed me a rare half-smile, and I hesitantly smiled back at his retreating figure. _Okay, back to prokaryotes. Oh joy._

****

"Look who's come _crawling _back," Tess drawled, putting her hands her hips in mock disproval. His eyes held the ghost of a smile, which was pretty much the Nick equivalent of explosive laughter.

"What? Is Nick here?" Iggy asked from behind her. "If so, it's about time."

"Yeah, he's here." I replied, plopping down into my usual seat in between Tess and Nick. "My amazing persuasive prowess brought him back."

Nick slid silently beside me, taking in the familiar scene, almost kinda sorta in some respects smiling. But you take what you can get from him.

I was smiling too as I ate my chicken sandwich, the one thing our cafeteria didn't totally screw up. It was nice to have him back.

"So, how'd you do on your biology test?" Ella asked, poking at her own mac and cheese. Mistake of a lifetime, Ella dear. I don't know of a single person who has eaten their macaroni and been there the next day to tell the tale.

"I actually did mildly okay. Like, an 85 or something, I can't remember. Don't ask me how, I don't know." I replied, and Ella took on a look of mild surprise.

"Good for you." Iggy remarked. "I, on the other hand, aced my honors science pop quiz today."

"Because it was on chemical reactions!" Tess accused.

"Yes, you can't deny that I'm something of an expert on the subject." Iggy replied, pleased with himself. Tess rolled her eyes, mumbling something including the words 'narcissistic', 'pyromaniac', and 'imbecile'. I couldn't agree more.

"What did I miss?" Nick said abruptly from beside me.

"Yeah, while you were off with that _sl-_" Ella started angrily, but Tess, peacekeeper she is, cut her off.

"I made Jazz Band!" she said cheerily.

"I almost cut my hair, but forgot to," Iggy chimed in. I rolled my eyes.

"I got a date for the All Hallow's Eve part-ay!" Ella added, doing a little dance in her chair.

"Wait, wait, wait. All Hallow's Eve party? When did this happen?" I asked, nonplussed.

Ella turned to me, dumbstruck. "What are you, a hermit?" She exclaimed, flinging her hands out. "The posters are _everywhere!"_

Now that she mentioned it, I did remember seeing one or two posters in every hallway of every facility I've ever been in for the past five months. Selective memory, I guess.

"Who're you going with?" Tess asked curiously. Ella had never really 'made a move' on anyone, even though she was the one ranting about how supermegafoxyawesomehot **(A VERY POTTER MUSICAL REFERENCE! WOO-HOO!) **so-and-so was 24/7.

"Well...you know Keith, right?" she said slyly, and Tess grinned.

"Good for you!" She commented, sinking her teeth into her own chicken sandwich.

"Oh, and Max?" Ella said, staring me down. I blinked and looked up at her.

"Yeah?" I said, preoccupied with my fries. Seriously, I swear to God that the one on the left moved, no joke...

She turned to me, eyes boring into my skull and searing my brain. Ooh, descriptive language. Nice.

"It's not over yet. The game. It's still going."

I closed my eyes, slumped in my chair. Iggy and Nuck would just have to wonder what she meant, but Tess, Ella and I knew.

I was getting a date to the party. Apparently, a date with Sam just wasn't enough.

Sometimes, I really hate my friends, you know?

**SORRY! I know Thanksgiving Break is supposed to be when you update every day, but I was visiting relatives in Baltimore, and I was a little preoccypied with the adorable baby and the recent brain surgery patient to update. Any way, there wasn't even a computer.**

**C'mon guys, you know the deal. It's really not that hard. In fact, I myself find great pleasure in coming up with creative reviews (or, more often, ways to threaten authors into updating). Feel the pressure. FEEL THE PRESSURE I AM SENDING THROUGH MY KEYBOARD INTO YOUR SKULL. YOU MUST REVIEW. YOU MUST REVIEW NOW.**


	11. Chapter 11

"PLEASE, Ella," I begged for what felt like the millionth time.

"No." she said brusquely, ushering me through the crowded mall. "You _have _to go to the party, and you _have _to wear a costume."

"But what if I really, _really _don't want to?" I replied, wrinkling my nose distastefully at the slutty costumes surrounding me on all sides.

"Too bad." She shot back. "Anyway, you had to accompany me here to get my costume anyway."

I hung my head, discouraged by her logic.

"Plus," she offered, "not _all _teen costumes are that bad."

I looked at her, nonplussed. "Such as..."

"Well, there's..." she stuttered, looking around frantically at all the different costumes in the Halloween shop that opened every October temporarily at the mall. Finally, she pointed at a costume triumphantly. "There!"

"I'm not going to dress up as a nun, Ella," I replied. "And I'm pretty sure that's a pre-teen costume."

I was right, of course. We had wandered over to the pre-teen section in our search.

Ella whirled around, returning to the four aisles marked 'YOUNG ADULT'. I followed her, shaking my head. I had no hopes that a good costume for me existed _anywhere, _let alone a run-down costume shop off 4-85.

She paused, flipping through the racks. "How about a...vampire?" she asked me. I shook my head. "No way will I ever be mistaken for a Twilight buff."

"What about a witch?" she suggested, holding up a particularly offending costume that seemed to be created solely out of glitter. She put it back on the rack immediately after seeing the look on my face.

"A devil?" she questioned, biting her lip. I shook my head, looking at her weirdly. "Over my dead body."

She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "You're too hard to shop for!" she cried.

"You suggested a grand total of three things to me," I pointed out.

"Well...whatever." she replied. "That's a lot to me. Now it's my turn to look for a costume." She whirled around to face the racks again.

"You are just difficult." I informed her. She held up a Raggedy Ann and a bumblebee costume next to each other.

"Hmm...doll or bee?" She mused, ignoring me, and I rolled my eyes. "I could be a lot more difficult if I wanted to." I told her matter-of-factly.

"Bumblebee." she decided, draping it on her arm and replacing the doll costume on the rack. Sisters.

After looking around for a half-hour or so, Ella's arms were full of possible candidates, and I was empty-handed. She tsked at me, shaking her head hopelessly, then went to try hers on.

I lay down in the torn, scratched, overstuffed leather couch that served as a waiting area while she changed. Barely a moment later, Ella reappeared from behind the velveteen red curtain. "How's this?"

I looked her up and down, taking in the flimsy pirate outfit, complete with eye patch and hook. "Nah," I said finally. "Too short."

She nodded, looking herself in the mirror thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Plus, these boots are way too uncomfortable."

She returned to the curtain, this time reappearing as a witch. Coincidentally, it was the same gobs-of-glitter one that I had detested earlier. "No way," I said immediately. "_Way _too overdone."

After I had to suffer through a bumblebee, Minnie Mouse, and a schoolgirl (SCARRED FOR LIFE), Ella had nearly given up.

"Last one," she told me wearily. "I'll just be a moment." I rolled my eyes disbelievingly (which she pointedly ignored), and she returned behind the curtain.

When she came out, I smiled. "I like this one the best," I told her.

SHe looked at herself in the mirror, doing a little spin and grinning in self-pride. The acceptable-albeit short-teal skirt whirled, and her earrings and bracelet jangled.

"I _do _make a perfect gypsy," she said. "But what about you?"

I frowned, having been happier talking about Ella than myself. "Oh, another day." I told her dismissively. "We've got time."

Ella nodded uncertainly, then went to change back into her street clothes. God, I hoped she didn't figure out a way to force me into that god-forsaken fabric scrap of a witch costume.

"Let's check out," Ella said, emerging from the changing room and putting the unwanted misfit costumes on the rack. "But first, I want to see if there's any good costume jewelry." she added quickly. I groaned loudly, mentally inserting a couple swear words for good measure.

We wove through all the people doing their last-minute Halloween stuff (Two days! I only had two freaking days!), vainly trying to get to the costume jewelry.

"Why would anyone want to dress up as a toilet?" I mused as we passed the section pronounced to be 'HUMOR'.

"I'm still a little confused about the purple penguin," she replied.

"And the banana," I added.

Finally, FINALLY we made it there. Ella lunged for a likely-looking jumble of tangled necklaces, while I hung around near the brooches. Next to me was a rack of masks, and I fingered one absentmindedly, wondering what Iggy, Nudge, Nick, and Tess would be.

Suddenly, Ella looked up. When her eyes fell on the mask I was holding, she gasped. "Ohmigawd, you're a genius!" she exclaimed, snatching it from my hands.

"Yes, I know, but why is that relevant to the present situation?" I replied, a little confused.

She held up the mask, and I looked at it closer. It was black, with strands strewn artfully around it, curling over where one's forehead would be. Above the left eye, what looked like a bird's head poked out. The only way to give away that this was a mask, and not some sort of elaborate piece of art, were two eye holes and a graceful slope that indicated where the nose went.

"Yeah, it's nice," I told her, "but I still don't get what it has to do with my being a genius."

She threw up her hands, exasperated. There seemed to be a lot of that today. "Don't you know what this _is?" _she exclaimed, holding it up into my face for a closer look. I shook my head slowly. "It's a masquerade mask!"

I snapped my fingers. "Oh, yeah!" I said. "They wear those things to masquerade balls, right?" She nodded, smiling. "So you're saying," I continued, it dawning on me, " is that I should dress up like I'm going to a masquerade ball?" I wrinkled my nose distastefully. "Don't you wear those ugly black-and-white checkered dresses to those?"

She shook her head quickly. "I was thinking," she explained, "that you could be a modern-day masquerade. A..._Max_querade, if you pardon the pun. Like, in a black-and-red dress. In fact, I think I have a perfect one for you at home."

"So," I replied, the idea growing on me, "we don't even have to keep looking in here any more? We just go home?"

"Well, you need the mask, and some jewelry," she confessed, "but for the most part, yes."

"Thank God," I breathed in relief. "I think the musty smell is getting to my head."

She nodded. "Staying in a place that's vacated 3/4 of the year'll do that to you," she replied sympathetically.

We ended up getting Ella a chunky, jingly bracelet and myself a very Victorian black choker made of black beads, along with earrings to match.

"You want to keep some of the aspects of your costume Victorian," Ella had explained when she chose it. "That way, the masquerade theme will be more easily recognized." I had nodded like I understood.

At the checkout counter, she had picked up a pack of what was called 'body tape'. Under questioning, she said that it was to keep my mask on my face, and was usually used to keep bikinis in place. And yes, I know that rhymes. I had commented that about it when she said it, which earned me a slap to the back of my head.

All things considered, I was feeling pretty optimistic.

**PHEW! There's another chapter done. **

**I would like to thank RideTheSky for assisting me in the selection of the costumes four our characters (Though I did most the actual brainstorming. She ate pizza and broke my personalized snow globe.)**

**I know it was a filler, but I couldn't just randomly introduce their costumes on the day of the dance. Which, I suppose you would like to know, is next chapter.**

**I was going to do a detailed, thoughtful response to each of your reviews, but it got late and, consequently, I got lazy. So, I'll just list the reviewers, like last time:**

**TMI (seriously concerned about your sanity status, but hey, I'm not complaining)**

**Deathtobieber (btw, it's an 'organism whose cells contain complex structures enclosed within membranes'. Whatever that means.)**

**Yreva13 ( :) to you too)**

**Nightflyer18 (He's doing well, now he just has a squishy spot on his head that is rather odd to poke but, of course, you have to. AVPS is almost cooler; me and my friends quote it ALL THE TIME. Ms. Speight was quite confused when we all yelled, 'STOP TEXTING ME, UMBRIDGE!' in the middle of band. It's one of my prouder moments.)**

**R&R, bla bla bla. I'm too tired to come up with something creative. Deal with it.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm going to start this out with an apology/explanation/excuse thingy. **

**My keyboard is broken (Mom spilled water on it, and yet everyone blames me since it was my water. UNFAIR!), so the delete, space, and quotation mark keys are broken. One of the reasons it took so long for me to update is that I had to type it messed up and weird on this computer, then e-mail it to myself, then copy and paste it onto a different computer, then fix it there. **

**Another reason is because I had my Duke TIP SAT-thing, then I was at Wizarding World of Harry Potter, then it was Christmas, then it was New Years, then it was snowing, then school started back up, then I had the spelling bee... **

**Ahem. As you can tell, I've had a lot on my plate lately. Not that that's at all **

**excusable. I haven't updated for a MONTH; I'm turning into the kind of FanFic authors I abominate! **

**You probably aren't reading this anyway, so I'll take this opportunity to inject some of my favorite words ever: Conscience. Bungle. Wreak. **

**On with the chapter! **

"Max... "Ella called tentatively from my doorway, sounding afraid. "I just did

something I think you wont approve of. "

I shot her a look over my shoulder, putting in my fancy-schmancy earrings. "Its

okay to wonder if you're adopted. I do too sometimes."

She rolled her eyes, then seemed to remember something sombering. "No, really," she said, sounding uncomfortable.

I swiveled around in my spinny chair, savoring the Double 07 effect it gave me.

"Do tell."

She squirmed a little, then said, "Dylan called earlier…"

I cut her off, demanding, "How does he have this number!"

Ella merely shrugged, then forged on, saying, "and he asked for you."

"What did he say?" I asked, my voice tight and strangled, though I was pretty sure I knew.

She took a deep breath, then in a big gust, said,

"!"

With that, she threw up her hands as if to protect her face.

"You did what?" I cried, my voice shrill. "What the h-e-double bendy straws did do that for?"

She seemed to regain some of her confidence and replied, "Because we-er, _you-_still need to make Nick jealous."

I groaned, putting my head in my hands. "I thought we were done with that." I mumbled through my fingers.

Ella shook her head vigorously. "Nope."

"Is this really inevitable?" I groaned miserably.

She chewed her lip, seeming to almost kind of sort of regret her impulsive act of evil sisterhood, then said, "Yep." Way to shatter the illusion, Ella. Thanks a lot.

"But, there's one good side to this…" She said suddenly, a sly grin spreading across her face.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" I grumbled miserably.

Her grin grew wider. "I have an excuse to put you in a dress."

**PAGE BREAK PAGE BREAK PAGE BREAK**

I took a deep yoga breath and closed my eyes.

"Well, go on," Ella said, grinning. She, of course, looked radiant in _her _costume. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I looked like an inarticulate bumble.

"What if I really, _really _don't want to?" I asked per pitifully. She rolled her eyes and made 'go on' motions.

The second I walked in, I was Dylan. How could I not? After all, he was wearing a bright blue hoodie and "designer" sunglasses with his hair swept to the left. He gave me a flick of the head-a desperate attempt at coolness-and sauntered over.

"Why aren't you dressed up?" I asked, furious that he had gotten away with it and wondering if I could change in the ladies' room.

He shot me an appalled look and said, "I am!"

From behind me, Ella squealed, "Awesome Justin Bieber costume!"

FACEPALM.

While I shook my head, trying to dislodge that image from where it had been seared into my brain, he grabbed my arm and said, "You look really nice…I'm glad you came."

Fighting the urge to say that I wasn't, I told him that yeah, of course I did.

"Come over here where it isn't quite so loud," he said, dragging me by the elbow to some desolate corner of the cafetorium.

"Why are we here?" I said irritably. I wanted to see Tess and Iggy and them.

"I have something I want to tell you," He said, his voice quiet and gentle, looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes, the insufferable git.

"Well? Get on with it!" I replied irritably.

"Max…I really like you. I mean, really, _really _like you. And I was wondering if…" He said simply, his voice trailing off. "If you would like to…you know…date?"

He looked up at me hopefully, the most horrifically sickening pathetic look on his face. There was a moment of utter silence, then I spoke.

"Okay, I don't know if it was the McDonald's I had before we got here or what, but I seriously just threw up in my mouth." I announced. He gaped.

And gaped.

And…gaped.

"Well then," I said matter-of-factly, "if that's all you have to say, I guess I'll be going."

With that, I whirled around on my heel and waltzed over to the cluster of who I knew to be my friends.

"What are we all admiring?" I asked, sticking my head into the clump.

"Iggy's costume," Tess said in an awestruck voice. I noticed that she was wearing a bright pink wig, and looked at her questioningly.

"Nymphadora Tonks," she explained unhelpfully.

"Uh…right Yes. I totally know who that is." I replied awkwardly.

Suddenly, I noticed Iggy's costume. It was, in a word…indescribable.

His purple velvet pants went up to his waist and flared out at the bottom, while his bright orange shirt's top two buttons were open, showing off his oversized money sign bling. A leopard print-lined lime green coat went down to midthigh, and he was posing variously with a leopard print pimp cane and a huge, floppy lime green hat. He was poised precariously on top of leopard-print shoes with hollow heels containing a-hopefully plastic-goldfish and some water.

I gaped to put Dylan to shame.

"Iggy." I said. "Way to make me feel inadequate."

"Aw, Max, you're adequate!" Nudge squealed, encasing me in a huge hug. "You're costume is FABULOUS, and you look FABULOUS, and it's this whole entirely FABULOUS ordeal!"

"Well worded, Nudge." Ella said appreciatively.

For the first time, I noticed Nudge's costume. She was bedecked as a monarch butterfly in bright blue and black, with wings, shimmery make up, the whole nine yards. It was all very Nudge-esque.

Suddenly, I noticed something. "Where's Nick?"

"Um…" Tess said with her head cocked to the side, considering. "Last I checked, he was getting a Coke from the snack bar…thing. He should be back…now!"

She turned and waved at someone in the corner of the room, coming steadily nearer…_Nick?_

Yes, Nick. In black-on-black suit, a white Phantom of the Opera mask, and with his hair slicked back and a single blood red rose in his breast pocket alongside a-you guessed it-black handkerchief.

"Oh. My. GOSH, Max! It's like you planned on coordinating!" Ella squealed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

"You didn't?" Nudge said, confused. "But…you totally match!"

I was already halfway across the cafetorium by the time Nudge had said that.

"FALKIN!" I screamed. "You've lost me my originality, boy!"

He turned to look at me, and his eyes widened. At least, I'm pretty sure they did. Hard to tell when he's wearing a mask.

I stopped in front of him, hands on my hips.

"I didn't _mean _too," he said, as close to sheepishly as I think he's ever gotten.

"Yeah, yeah." I grumbled.

"Really!" He cried. I rolled my eyes.

**Sorry, couldn't think of a good way to end that. I can't apologize enough for the delay.**

**R&R!**


	13. Chapter 13

**All right, I'm back from Drama Club, so I'll update before I practice my tenor saxophone.**

**I'm trying to make up for the horrendous 1-month gap earlier. Sorry about that...**

"Oh, NIck," I said, shaking my head disapprovingly. "Must you ruin everything?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "I don't ruin _everything," _he lied.

Tess had wandered off to hang out with Iggy and Ella was dancing with Keith, so that left Nick and I sitting awkwardly at a table shoved in the corner of the cafetorium, ridiculing all the people dancing and making fools of themselves.

"Do you see Dylan?" I said, hanging the subject so that I wouldn't end up hitting him. For the third time. That minute.

"Uh, yeah?" He said, looking at me, his face a mixture of weirded out and a sort of on-edge expression I didn't have a name for.

"Do you know what he's dressed up as?"

He thought for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together as he scoured his brain.

"He's...not?" He offered finally.

"No," I said, and, not botherin to hide my sniggers, "Justin Bieber."

He shot me this total freaked out look, and then burst out laughing. He'd never laughed like that before and, you know, laughter is contagious and all that, so I exploded. We ended up leaning on each other, guffawing and panting for breath, and I got this warm, funny feeling in my stomach. LIke...super happy. At peace. It was nice, just sitting here, laughing my head off with Nick.

How odd.

"Wait," I said, finally catching my breath and wiping a tear of laughter from my eye, "why was that so funny?"

"I have no idea," He replied seriously, somehow keeping a straight face.

That set me off again, and he let out a feeble sort of chuckle and waited for me to finish.

Suddenly, my ears perked up.

"No." I whispered disbelievingly.

Nick quirked an eyebrow, saying nothing, as I rose out of my chair like I was possessed.

"This song..." My voice trailed off, straining my ears.

Sure enough, Gerard Way started singing, "Na na na na, na na na..."

I stared down at Nick, whose eyes had widened.

"They're not cool enough to play this song...are they?" I asked. Nick just shook his head disbelievingly.

Out on the dance floor, people were either looking at each other, confused-this was a big drop from 'Stairway to Heaven', which had been playing earlier-or jumping up and down enthusiastically.

I grabbed NIck's elbow and dragged him out, positioning him in front of me. My mask almost fell off as I jumped up and down, the lights having dimmed with the exception of neon spotlights coming from the DJ's corner of the room.

NIck kind of sort of in some respects smiled at me, and bobbed his head a little.

_Love, gimme love, I don't need it but I'll take what I want from your heart and I'll keep it..._

In the corner, Ella and Tess were high-fiving each other, thrilled that their plan had worked. Max was hopping maniacally and grinning hugely, and Nick was...well, he was doing the best he could in that situation.

_...than be in purgatory._

Just as suddenly as it had began, the song ended, and I ended up loooking up at Nick, panting for breath and grinning.

"Well, that was fun," I said, and grabbed his arm to drag him back over to our table, but then I noticed that the lights were coming back on, that no music was starting. Lots of people were talking excitedly and pointing out each other's costumes, wringing their hands.

"What?" I said, whirling around, but the DJ had handed his mike to Mr. MacMIllan, the principa, with his hair in a comb-over as usual. He had omitted a tie from his usual getup for the occasion, however.

"Now," he began, grinning like he was about to give us the best news ever, "I have the honor of announcing the results of our costume contest!"

"There was a costume contest?" I whispered to Nick, confused, and ten different people turned around and shushed me. He shrugged his shoulders.

"For best overall costume," he began, licking his lips, "we have... Miss Kristina Riley!" Kristina walked up to the small platform that served as a stage in our poor hobo school, smiling ear-to-ear and waving her Glinda the Good Witch wand, dress sparkling and heels clacking. Her friends clapped and hooted.

"Now, best humor costume..." Here he paused again for ambience, "Ignatious...er, Iggy... Griffiths!"

Pumping his fists and waving his pimp cane, Iggy sauntered on stage, accepting the flimsy trophy. Next to the stage, Tess was going wild, snatching her wig of her head and tossing it into the air in victory. I clapped and yelled louder than anything else, and Nick covered his ears and looked at me, affronted.

"And now, our third and final award..." He cleared his throat and pressed his lips closer to the mike, "Best Couple Costume-Max Martinez and Nick Falkin!"

Behind us, Ella screamed and pushed us toward the stage. I allowed myself to be prodded along by people around us, all congratulating us on 'how great our costumes were' and 'how cute we looked together'.

_...Together?_

Somehow, with me not cooperating, we were shoved onstage. We must've looked a sight, with my mouth hanging open unashamedly and Nick rapidly trying to cover his shock.

"Smile; it's for the school paper!" Someone in the front yelled, and all the winners crowded together. Iggy rushed to our right side, Kristina our left. AFter taking a few shots, the guy with the camera called out, exasperated, "NIck, Max, put your arms around each other or hold hands or _something!..._you're the cutest couple I've ever seen, so flaunt it!"

When we made no move in any direction, Iggy roughly shoved our hands into each other and gently pushed us together, closing my mouth and desperately trying to stretch Nick's lips into a smile.

There were two flashes from the now thinning mass and the photographer-who I now recognized Drake Harper-tipped the fedora of his Blues Brothers costume to us in farewell before spinning on his wheel and walking out. Kristina raced down to her friends; Iggy, after shooting us a rushed congratulations, raced down to Tess, who gave him a hige hug and squealed into his shirt; leaving Nick and I staring at each other, appalled.

"How?" I said quietly, but stopped.

NIck was looking at me with a kind of intensity I'd never seen in him before, searching my face for something. I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it, and raced down the stairs, flinging off my mask as I went, almost crushing it underfoot.

"Max!" He yelled from the stage, from the darkness where lights had once shone, but I didn't turn back until I was halfway down the street to my house and was sure he wasn't coming after me.

**END SCENE.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Responses for Reviewers for Chapter 13 (I'll try and do this every chapter now):**

**TMI~It WAS sad. I was sad while writing it. Sad, sad sad. SAD. But hey, unlucky chapter number 13, right? Right.**

**Froyogirl27~I am good. I'm just so talented, it's dazzling. I'm sure you all agree.**

**Lozzy98~It had been stuck in my head for days; it's the kind of song where you randomly burst into it at the strangest times. Like during a Science test, for example. Awkward...**

**desperatelyobvious~Neither did I, to be honest. It just sort of popped into my head at the last second.**

**ISuckAtUsernames~We should form an alliance to fight the advances of the Dylan-faced army.**

**World of New~Uh...sure. Okay.**

**maxrideanime989~I'll update soon! Er, now. Whatever.**

**Maximum-Games~I always hated the FanFics where it's like 'Oh Fang! I love you so!' 'Max! I love you too! But I'm secretly part of a gang and I have to kill everyone you love and you too!' 'Oh no, Fang! Let's put our differences aside and buy a house in the Bahamas! YAY!' I decided to make mine as non-that as possible. It's a dream of mine, honestly.**

**THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR REVIEWING! I love my reviews. I feed on them like a dementor feeds on happiness and souls. NUMMY NUM NUMMERS.**

First thought: _Crap_. Second thought: _CRAAAAAP_.

I _so_ messed up.

Even now, sitting on a park bench with my dirty, smushed mask in hand, I knew that. I had realized the severity of my mistake right after I left, and ran back to apologize.

But Nick had left.

I can't believe I let that happen. I can be such a complete imbecile sometimes. I mean, what was so wrong with Nick looking at me? He was LOOKING at me. Not worthy of the grand flee he got in return.

I mean, it was really awkward and everything about winning the contest, but that didn't matter. We wore matching costumes. We stayed by each other. We even danced with each other. It's natural for them to assume that we're together.

But still...were we really that 'cute' of a couple? Why did we have to be clumped together? Why can't a boy and a girl be friends without some kind of inane, melodramatic romance developing? Why did everyone assume that we were madly in love?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. No matter how I looked at it, I had just fled from one of, if not the, best friends I had ever had. Our connection was legitimate. I felt like I knew him more over a period of-what, three moths? Four?-than I knew NUdge or Tess over a period of three _years. _We were made of the same material, so to speak.

I had to fix this.

...But how?

I thought, long and hard, ignoring the fact that it was freezing cold and I was only wearing a black dress and some tennis shoes.

This whole thing was a complete slap in the face. I was too short-tempered, too paranoid, taking too much for granted.

I shook my head again. _Fix this._

I thought back to when I had first heard Nick was coming to the neighborhood. What had Ella said?

_Old house...the one just down the street from Arianna and Gregory's._

I picked up my mask, slammed it on my face, and picked my way along the treacherous, damp sidewalk.

_Fix this._

**THIS IS A PAGE BREAK LA LA LA LA LA PAGEY PAGEY PAGE BREAK LA.**

Ideas always seem much better in your head.

That was the only thing in my mind as I stood in front of the modest 2-story stone house with a little plaque on the door reading 'Falkin Residence' in elaborate, graceful gold letters. As for what to do now, I was drawing up a blank.

Deciding I would wing it (improvisation being one of my better talents), I trudged up the stone steps and grasped the knocker, banging it firmly on the red door three times.

A dog barked from somewhere inside the house and I could see a blurry someone-presumably Nick-come toward the door through the textured glass.

When the door opened, though, it wasn't Nick. It was his mother, her dark hair swept up into a messy ponytail and the smell of spaghetti wafting from the kitchen.

"Max?" She said, slightly confused. "I mean, you're welcome anytime," she corrected herself, "but I'm afraid Nick has locked himself up in his room. No offense, but I doubt he wants to see any one right now."

"Is he real upset I asked anxiously, biting my lip and sticking my head further through the doorway like I might be able to see him.

"Well, I don't know about upset," she said, sounding mildly surprised, "but he _did _slam his door pretty hard...does that help?"

I looked at her, her face looking so concerned and motherly, and blurted out, "I need some advice!"

Merely raising an eyebrow, the opened the door wider and said with a smile, "Well then, by all means, come in."

She sat me down at a rich cherry wood island in the middle of the kitchen and placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of me, fussing that I looked dreadfully cold. I accepted it grudgingly.

"So, she said finally, once she had settled into the stool next to me with her own mug of cocoa, "spill."

So I told her everything. The argument with Dylan, the matching costumes, the dancing, the costume contest and-with a lump in my throat-the way I had acted afterwards.

She took a sip of her cocoa, set down the mug and said, "Well, you've gotten yourself into a pickle, now haven't you?"

I nodded and laughed weakly.

"You know who you remind me of?" she said quietly, staring at me with the same eyes, the same intensity as Nick. It sent shivers down my spine. "Myself."

She paused for a moment, then plowed on. "When I was in college, I had a friend named Mark. We were so close...I still miss that, that deep connection and understanding.

"Anyway, we were the best of friends. Went everywhere together. And one day, naturally, there sparked a rumor that we were dating. It as a juicy one, too, all about 'forbidden love' and 'trust issued'; oh, fit for the soaps. But I was not. I was very down-to-earth and practical then. I got so angry-I don't even know why-and went about like that all day when I caught wind of the rumor. I fumed all around campus, and Mark was concerned, so he confronted me.

"I was so angry and felt so betrayed that I yelled at him. I said-" She paused, her eyes full of sadness. "I said, I bet you started that rumor. I can't trust anyone.

"It was a horrible thing to say. I sounded so vain and mistrusting-it wasn't me at all, and Mark knew that. But he felt as angry and betrayed as I had, like I didn't trust him at all, let alone as much as he trusted me. LIke I didn't put much stock in him. So he left. He said, 'If that was true, then I'd apologize. But it's no, so I won't.' And he left. I never saw him again."

SHe looked at me and said three simple words: "Talk to him."

I replied ,"Call him down."

With a thankful look at me, she yelled, "FANG!"

I turned to her confused. "Fang?"

"Oh, it's his pet name." She smiled at some long-forgotten memory. "He had a biting problem when he was younger."

I barely controlled my sniggers, then got serious and said, "You know what? I'll go up there myself, thanks."

She smiled at me and whispered, "Good luck.".

I would probably need it, I thought, as I trudged up the stairs and knocked gently on a black door that I knew must lead to Nick's-_Fang's-_room

"For the last time, Mom," grumbled an all-too-familiar voice from inside, "I don't want any hot chocolate! Really!"

"It's Max." I said simply.

There was a pause, then a rustle of bed sheets and the door swung open to reveal Nick, still in his suit, with his once carefully slicked back hair mussed. His expression was carefully guarded, not as open as I was used to. He had kicked off his hoes, and I could see the rose, mask and handkerchief discarded on his dresser.

I entered the room quietly, sitting on the unmade black-sheeted bed. The walls were still white-they had never gotten around to painting them-but most of the furniture was the same matte black.

He looked at me expectantly, still standing with his hand on the doorknob.

"I'm sorry," I blurted, throwing the mental plans I had made to pieces. "That was so stupid of me. I didn't mean to. I just-I just felt like...I don't even know. I don't what I was thinking or doing. I'm such an idiot. And now-" My voice quivered uncharacteristically. "-and now you won't hang out with me any more because I'm an overthinking, paranoid idiot."

THere was a long, drawn out silence in which Nick merely looked at me.

"I'll go," I said quietly, covering my face with my hair and making to go to the door. NIck shot his arm out and grabbed my elbow, holding me back.

"I was the stupid one." HE said simply. "I shouldn't have left. It was childish and immature. I should have gone after you, or at least not left in a huff and left my own mother in the dark as to why."

We stared at each other for a while, both of us mutually glad that the other had felt bad too.

"I'm sorry," we said in unison.

Feeling like that was all I had to say, I started for the door.

Once again, Nick's arm shot out but this time he pulled me into a huge bear hug. I exhaled loudly and rested my chin on his shoulder.

"Thanks...Fang." I said, and he whipped around.

"MOM!" He screamed in exasperation as I raced down the stairs laughing.

**AWWWWWW.**

**R&R or die. You choose.**


	15. Chapter 15

"MAX!"

I jolted upward, knocking my head on the bottom of my lamp and cursing loudly. Whoa, talk about déjà vu.

Suddenly, a second voice joined the first, screaming, "MAXIE MAXIE MAXIE! MAXALICIOUS! THE MAXSTER!"

Only Tess.

Then, in a flash of neurons, I realized that Tess's voice…meant she was nearby…meant she was…in my house?

"Tess?" I called out confusedly, rubbing the bruise that was forming on my forehead.

I heard feet pounding on hardwood, then my bedroom door was flung open and Tess burst in and leaped on the foot of my bead. At least, I think it was Tess. It was more of a Tess-colored blur.

"Why are you here?" I said bluntly, looking at where she was perched, grinning like she was holding back an ecstatic squeal.

"You don't _know?" _She deadpanned, a few hundred notches higher than was necessary.

"Er…no." I replied.

"IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY!" She squealed, bouncing up and down and clapping like a preschooler who had just gotten a pony.

Tess has a certain fetish for birthdays. Last year, it was a badly kept surprise (don't tell her, she'd be heartbroken) where we went to the beach. That was really awesome. Year before that , she nabbed us tickets to a basketball game and reservations at a great pizza joint.

She thrust something toward me, not bothering to hide her excitement. Further examination revealed that it was a small pink disc, lined with silver sequins, with various ribbons, feathers and other "fabulous" substances jutting from the sides. She had written _Birthday Girl! _in her neat, even handwriting with a silver sharpie in the middle.

The birthday pin. That was another tradition.

"I made it myself." She informed me proudly. I glanced at Ella in the corner, who was shaking erratically trying to contain her laughter. Thanks a lot, sis. Really.

"It's very…" I paused, looking for the right word. Last year it was _special, _the year before that _unique…"_flamboyant. It's very flamboyant."

She beamed, and then threw something red and soft at me. This time, it was a red T-shirt that said, _It's my birthday! _and had a picture of a smiling cupcake with a smiling candle on top.

That was new.

"You have to wear it." She explained, the smiled and added, "Because it's your birthday."

"Er…yes. We've established that." I replied uncertainly.

Suddenly, Ella decided to become a part of the conversation. "You need to get dressed and come downstairs; they really can't wait any longer."

"They?" I asked, but Ella was already dragging me out of bed and propping me up on a chair. She crouched down so that we were eye-to-eye and said evenly, "You get dressed now in your exclusive birthday apparel. Then, I will come in to do your hair and makeup."

Before I even began to protest, the door was swinging shut behind her. She could really be fast when she wanted to.

I pulled the birthday shirt on, fastening the "flamboyant" pin over the inexplicably happy cupcake and putting on a pair of jeans. Then, just to get Ella's goat, I mussed up my hair with my hands and put on a practically antique Led Zeppelin baseball cap of my friend's.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I called, and she raced in, pushing me unceremoniously into a chair a ripping the cap off my head, running a brush through my hair.

"You…do…this…on…purpose!" She grunted as she worked on a particularly menacing snarl, finally breaking though and smoothing my hair with her palms. She swept all of my hair over my left shoulder, divided it into three parts, and started to braid.

"That tickles," I remarked, just to break the silence, and she mumbled something incoherently. Finally, she tied it off with a cupcake patterned pink ribbon, slammed a pair of plastic birthday sunglasses on my face, put on my _Birthday Princess _sash, and pulled a party horn necklace over my head.

"There!" She announced proudly, and steered me to the stairs, where I looked doubtfully at my getup in the hall mirror.

"Oh, forget it, you look fabulous." She said, exasperated, and practically shoved my down the steps. The second I set foot on the floor, a tumultuous roar echoed through our living room. Well, as tumultuous as it gets with about eight people.

I looked around; Iggy and Fang were both draped on the couch, Gazzy at their feet; Nudge was talking animatedly with Arianna in the corner and Sam had struck up a conversation with Iggy.

Wait_, Sam?_

My sister is messed up.

And there was Tess, in the middle of it all, grinning. Everyone moved toward me, talking.

"So now you're 17-" Iggy and Gazzy began, probably about to persuade me to buy some caustic substance for him he wasn't old enough to legally buy yet.

"-and then you need to have yellow boots-" Nudge said excitedly in between when I was tuning her out.

"I like your sash," Said Arianna innocently, as usual.

"So, now you're 17?" Sam inquired, a little slow on the uptake apparently.

Tess was squealing incoherently and Ella was complimenting herself on my outfit. Fang, looking amusedly at my apparel, said, "I see it's your birthday."

"Apparently so," I replied dryly, and hollered, "OKAY, SHUT UP NOW!"

They all quieted, except of course Nudge, who continued rambling about how great Joe Jonas would look in a sweater vest. Or something along the lines of that.

"I expect cake!" I demanded, slamming my fist on the coffee table. Mom entered, carrying the cake, and said, "Only if you ask nicely."

"It's my birthday, you should make allowances," I told her, then ran to the kitchen and grabbed a green _Happy Birthday! _paper plate and coordinating napkin and silverware. Mom set the cake down on the kitchen island, and everyone clustered around.

"All right, one, two, ready, and!" Tess cried from next to me, conducting an imaginary band, and they all launched into an off-key and altogether unpleasant rendition of the birthday song. Fang pointedly said "…dear MAXIE…", just to get back at me for calling him Fang, so I elbowed him in the stomach.

The song ended, and I huffed and puffed on the 17 candles. After two minutes or so of this, Gazzy wordlessly pulled an empty trick candle box out of his pocket and held it out to me, pulling the candles out of the cake and snuffing them on a wet paper towel. I sighed heavily, but decided to let the matter be what it may.

"I get first piece!" I cried, and this seemed to be some sort of cue; everyone heaved forward and shoved my face into the cake, holding me down until I whipped my head back, overpowering them.

"TRAITOR!" I cried, glaring murderously at Fang, who I knew was the culprit because of the way he had kept subtly smirking. In a sudden moment of intelligence, he burst out of the kitchen, me on his tail. Finally, he reached a dead end and turned around to face me, hands held up.

"You're lucky the house is full of witnesses," I muttered darkly, shaking my fist at him and swiftly returning to the kitchen, him following dazedly. He probably couldn't believe his luck, to come off that one unharmed. Yet.

When I got back, Mom passed me a plate of chocolate cake-awesome-and Reese's ice cream-awesomer. Once everyone had gotten one, I trailed into the living room where I had seen packages earlier.

"Presents for Max time!" I called. I should really be able to say that every day.

Everyone clustered around the coffee table, balancing plates and cups of red Kool-Aid (my favorite) on their knees.

"Mine first!" Tess cried, picked a small, rectangular box from the pile, and tossed it to me.

It was wrapped in metallic silver paper, with a black bow; the same as all her presents to me had been since I've known her.

I tore open the paper and pulled out an old-looking paper box. Inside, a green leather bracelet was nestled among purple tissue paper, with an embossed brass plate reading, TO THE MAX.

"I mad it in Trinidad," she explained. "They had leatherworking and embossing workshops on Saturdays."

I thanked her and gave her a hug, then snatched a random gift bag from the pile.

"Whose is this?" I called, holding it in the air, and Arianna and Gazzy raised their hands. I smiled at them.

"All right," I began, pulling white tissue paper from the blue bag and pulled out a crudely painted picture frame. It was the same blue as the bag, with white clouds, a smiling sun, and a rainbow in the corner.

"That's from me!" Arianna yelped, and I gave har a big hug. "It's very nice. I'll put our picture in it." I told her, smiling.

"Mine's in the bottom." Gazzy added, and I dug my hand deeper abd pulled out…Justin Bieber trading cards?Iggy, sensing the slience, roared with laughter, and Gazzy beamed.

"Iggy told me it would be funny." He explained as I whacked the aforementioned imbecile upside the head.

"Only if you're exploding it," I replied, glaring daggers at Iggy.

Next was Ella's; a promise booklet including hair, makeup, and wardrobe, which promptly earned her a smack; then Sam's, a $25 iTunes gift card; and Nudge's, a "fab kit" containing hair doodads, makeup, and a pair of black heels, until only Fang was left. His was small and rectangular and, characteristically, all black.

He stared at me, really hard, as I tore open the paper, like my reaction was really important to him. Finally, I lifted the cover of the box, and gasped.

There, nestled among black tissue paper, was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. There were two of them, actually; two little pieces of paper that fulfilled my highest dreams.

Skillet tickets.

"OH MY EVER-LOVING GOD, FANG!" I screamed, tackling him in a huge hug. "AREN'T THEY LIKE…LIKE… THIRTY GAJILLION DOLLARS?"

"My mom has contacts," He replied, smiling a little.

"You're coming with me," I informed him sharply, and he nodded obediently. I turned back to them, little slices of heaven purchased on Ticketmaster, and read, AMERICA WEST ARENA.

"Isn't that in Phoenix?" I wondered aloud, and he nodded again. "Road trip!" I exclaimed, giving him another ginumbo hug.

"I think I love you right now," I mumbled in awe, staring at and worshipping the tickets.

"Does that mean I'm off the hook?" He asked hopefully.

"For the moment," I replied. "But after…"I searched the ticket, and read, "October 10th…only four days!…you best sleep with one eye open."

"That's not very appreciative!" Tess cried, affronted.

"You take what you can get, Tess, you should know that by now." I replied, and looked back at the tickets.

October 10th. America West Arena. 8:30.

I'll be there.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sophia Aka Da~1, they do. I know this because my own brother got me pack. I roasted marshmallows over them that night. 2, everyone keeps on saying that. 3, I get that a lot. A surprisingly large amount, really. You've got Katie to thank for that. 4, Oh, good, no minions. Are you going to send me a subscription for a magazine? Because that would be very much appreciated.**

**Book Worm 2011~I like to keep 'em on their toes. You know, suspense and all that. It's a gift, really.**

**Nightflyer 18~ Uh…yeah. Sure.**

**desperately obvious ~ I don't do emotions. It will be awkward when the hardcore Fax rolls around.**

**I Suck at Usernames~I haven't, but my brother has. He and my cousin drove up to the beach and saw them. I about cried.**

**TMI~I did that on purpose. I hate how everyone always says its jewelry, because lets be honest, Max would probably use the 'delicate silver chain' to strangle Fang if he ever gave some to her. It always seems so OOC, you know? **

**I love you people. Really, my ego is happy.**

"Let's all go and see Ski-let, let's all go and see Ski-let, let's all go and see Ski-let, because they're too cool for words!" I sang, doing some kind of weird pirouette/sashay/tap dance thing into the kitchen.

I don't dance, okay?

"Someone's cheery!" Mom smiled from above a skillet (GOING TO CONCERT GOING TO SEE THEM LIVE OH MY GOD YES) of scrambled eggs with cheese, jalapenos, and hot sauce. Oh, spicy Mexican breakfast, I love you so.

"And for good reason." Ella replied gloomily, sulking in. "That _someone _gets to see their favorite band live."

"Still bitter about missing the Black Eyed Peas, eh, sister dear?" I gloated, strutting over with a heaping plate of eggs, fat sausages, and a small, lonely orange slice. Fruits are highly underrepresented in my diet. I'm a carnivore at heart.

"Have you packed everything?" Mom suddenly asked, glancing at the solitary half-filled black duffel bag by the door. "You've remembered everything?"

"But of course," I replied, my mouth full of meat. "Have I ever forgotten anything important?"

Mom paused, then shuddered a little, probably reliving past memories.

"Yes." She answered bluntly. I pouted. "You have…pajamas?"

"The very best money can buy." I replied jauntily.

"Pants?"

"Ripped, faded, altogether low-quality. Just the way I like 'em."

"Shirt?"

"A Skillet one that I ordered from Taiwan."

"Sneakers?"

"What do you think?"

Mom sighed. "If you forgot anything…"

"Then I will take full responsibility for it," I promised.

Mom bit her lip. "Will you be responsible?"

"No drugs, no alcohol. Skillet is a Christian band, after all."

Mom still looked unsure. "Safe?" she asked eagerly. "How about safe?"

"Ms. Falkin will be there for everything but the concert and the 5-minute drive to and from it."

Ella was watching the exchange with a look of mild entertainment, her face whipping back and forth between us like it was a Pin-Pong match.

"You shouldn't let her go!" she whined. "It's not _fair!"_

"It's totally fair!" I replied. "After all," I added smugly, "I _am _two minutes older."

"Aargh!" Ella screamed, and stomped off to her room.

Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen door, looked left to right, and whispered, "Okay, it looks safe. Proceed to the Nick's."

Before she changed her mind, I yanked my duffel bag over my shoulder and went outside, making sure to slam the door and step as loudly as I could so that Ella would here. She yelled a few choice words from her room, and I yelled a few of my own back at her. Then, I smiled to myself and continued down the tree-lined lane. Well, as tree-lined of a lane you can get in Arizona.

When I arrived at N-Fang's, his mom seemed to be going through the same procedure mine had been. She was out of the work clothes I had seen her in, er, _that night_, and instead was wearing jeans and a cardigan with her hair in a ponytail. She just looked so _motherly, _it didn't even seem possible.

_Fang (_snicker, snicker) was in his typical, unvarying, bland black ensemble, and was leaning on the hood of a maroon car that seemed to be made almost entirely of duct tape.

"Fang!" I called indignantly, gesturing to the car. "If this was a movie, you would've had some kind of amazing jet-black convertible."

"If it was a movie, your hair wouldn't frighten a young child." He shot back.

"And if this was a movie, then you two would be madly and love and not be arguing incessantly." Ms. Falkin said tiredly. "Now get in the car."

We both complied, shoving our bags in the trunk and racing to get the bucket seat. I won, of course, as he did things the normal way while I slid over the hood of the car to get there. I stuck my tongue out at Fang, and he rolled his eyes.

"I get control of the radio since I'm driving you to Phoenix and paying for half of each of your tickets." She announced, jamming a pair of sunglasses on her face and backing out of their driveway. It seemed like a pretty fair trade to me; I cared even less when she turned to the station with all the classics. Once we reached the highway, even silent-but-deadly Fang was singing loudly along to 'Sing Us a Song, You're the Piano Man'.

I apologize to the people who had to hear that.

However, after an hour in the car, I had finally found a Zaxby's, thus ending the alphabet game, and beginning my descent into supreme boredom.

"Green one." I said unenthusiastically, giving Fang a noncommittal punch.

"There is not a single Volkswagen on the road." He complained.

"Shut up with your logic." I replied, irritated.

"I have an idea!" Ms. Falkin suddenly exclaimed brightly. "Let's sing, '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'!"

"NO!" Fang and I both screamed.

"At least I got you to agree on something." She grumbled in response.

This cycle repeated for two more dreadful, dull, excruciatingly painful hours.

Oh, joy.

"I don't believe it." I said in an awestricken voice, pushing my nose against the window glass in a futile attempt to see the top of the Phoenix, Arizona jagged skyline. "We actually made it.""Everyone still alive?" Ms. Falkin checked, peering at us through the rear-view mirror as she swooped the car to the front of the hotel.

"I am!" I exclaimed, bouncing in my seat.

"I'm not." Fang groaned, covering his eyes in a futile attempt to go back to sleep.

"Suck it up, Sleeping Beauty." I said, giving him a sharp jab in the ribs. He didn't even flinch, the booger-brained male he is.

"I'll check in, you guys put our luggage on a cart." Ms. Falkin directed, pointing to the luggage carriers off to the side.

"We only have three little bags," I pointed out.

"I'm too lazy to carry three bags, little as they may be. Get a carrier." Fang called from the car, where he was still struggling to get out of his chair in his half-asleep state.

As I looked around the lobby, I noticed we weren't the only teenagers loitering here. Two guys with identical, obviously dyed, black hair were talking in the corner. Three girls, one with red, one with brown, and one with blond hair were pushing each other around on the luggage carriers. A boy and two girls were inattentively perusing a rack of postcards in the corner.

One of the luggage-carrier girls smiled at me, and I waved weakly back. Then I remembered that she must be a Skillet fan, and the wave became much more enthusiastic.

"Interacting with the locals, are we?" Fang asked, having suddenly appeared behind me.

"Sure am." I replied happily.

"Such fun." He said sarcastically.

"Oh, would it kill you to be friendly for once?" I grumbled.

"I can be friendly!" He replied, offended. "Watch this."

He then proceeded to do that weird head-nod thing, the one for guys that are too cool for waving but that would like to acknowledge another's presence, to one of the phony-dark haired guys. He replied with one of his own.

"That was not friendly!" I scoffed. "Here, _this _is friendly."

I grabbed Fang's hand and dragged him over to the girls on the luggage carts. They stopped talking when they saw us come near, and just sort of stared.

"I'm Max." I said.

"Julia." Said the blond.

"Michelle." Said the brunette.

"Eleanor." Said the redhead.

Fang said nothing, so I elbowed him in the ribs. He remained silent.

"This is F-Nick." I said apologetically. "He's a tad bit-" I jabbed his arm again, hoping for a response but getting none, "-antisocial."

They didn't seem to mind at all, however, and merely giggled and waved, sending fleeting looks to each other.

Girls can be _weird _sometimes.

"Max! Nick!" Ms. Falkin suddenly called. "I love that you're making friends, but I would love it more if you carried the luggage!"

I whirled around and grabbed Fang's wrist, dragging him after me and shoving his bag into his hands. We stepped into the elevator, where Fang proceeded to turn and glare at me.

"I was being friendly!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation.

He continued to glare.

"You're a dork." I said finally, and the elevator doors dinged open.

"Here we are, lady and gentle…guy! The very best the Marriot has to offer!" Ms. Falkin cried grandly, gesticulating to the white door labeled 257 once we had made it to the hall. "I get to swipe the card!" I exclaimed, snatching it from her hands and quickly jabbing it into the slot. The little light turned from red to green, and the door popped open. I immediately pushed through, dumping bags on the floor as I went, and finally collapsing headfirst onto a bed.

I made a nondescript sound of weariness, and Fang proceeded to shove me off of the bed and take the spot for himself.

"Let the games begin!" Ms. Falkin announced.

**Yay! Now, wasn't that **_**fun?**_

**Don't lie, I know it was.**

**Did anyone notice before now how amazingly clever I was, taking the girls' names from Beatles songs? There's 'Julia' and 'Michelle', both from their songs of the same name (you know, now I sing a song of love for Julia and Michelle, my belle), and then 'Eleanor', from 'All the Lonely People' (Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where her wedding has been, lives in a dream! Waits at the window, wearing the…)**

**Ahem. I'll stop there before I type the whole song.**

**FUNNY STORY! I was eating those Beanboozled things where you have two jelly beans that look the same, but one is good and one is nasty, and I discovered my horribly bad luck. First, I had a booger, then a vomit that was supposed to be peach, then an earwax. Then, I got scared, and I made my friend eat one that looked the same when I ate it. It was some kind of nasty rhubarb/radish/rutabaga thing, and we ended up both gagging. I was the only one that actually barfed, though.**

**To be honest, it tasted better coming back out than it was going in. That's how nasty it was.**

**Okay, that was probably too much information, but I could care less. **

**HOWEVER, if you don't review, I will continue to post nasty stories after every chapter! **

**Trust me, I have quite the collection.**


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